


Shadows And Doubts

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: Chicago Style [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-09
Updated: 2011-03-02
Packaged: 2017-10-15 13:30:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ariadne knew how to take care of herself in a big city. The problem wasn't keeping safe from the usual creeps that might mug her in a back alley, however. The problem was figuring out what to do with Arthur; he was intent on dating her despite the insults she hurled at him. Everyone else was terrified of him, and there was a lot she didn't know about him.</p><p>For the prompt <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/13659.html?thread=30460763#t30460763">Hitman!Arthur/Ariadne.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Start Of Things

If she didn't need the money, Ariadne never would have taken the late shift. It was approaching midnight, and she hated walking alone to the El. Creepy bastards always hung out by the El or in shadowy alleyways, and she had an overactive imagination enough to be paranoid of every one of them. She avoided eye contact, wore sneakers and kept mace in her pocket. She had taken judo back in high school, and she was taking a karate class on Saturday mornings just to keep on her toes.

At five foot one with a youthful face, there was no way in hell she was ever going to look intimidating, so she had to be alert. Some people automatically assumed that short meant weak, so her petite frame was an automatic target. Sad, but true, and especially in a large city like Chicago. She was getting her Master's at the School of Architecture of the University of Illinois at Chicago, and it was a great program. Financing that degree wasn't cheap, and neither was trying to live near the school. That led to her job as a receptionist at one of the clinics affiliated with Cook County Hospital, which had seemed safe enough at the time. It was near enough to school that she could walk over after classes for her shift, but that made it a pain in the ass to get to Logan Square, where she lived. It was still a walk from her stop on the Blue Line, but at least she was generally safe enough once she got on the el at the Medical District stop.

Well, it was normally safe. One of the lights leading to the el station was out, and Ariadne wanted to swear. Maybe she could keep walking toward the university and take the Racine stop? Though really, that was silly. That would have her walk even further into the open streets and dark alleyways. At least there were a handful of people standing around waiting for the el to arrive, so she wouldn't be alone. If she walked along with a purpose, perhaps no one would try to attack her.

It was not her lucky night.

If she was charitable, Ariadne would have said that the man that wound up attacking her was likely a drunk panhandler. If she was feeling paranoid, she would have said he intended to knock her out, drag her into the trees and rape her. The adrenaline kicked in when he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the shadows. She spun around as best as she could, shifting his balance. That made him loosen his grip enough that she could twist out of it as she dug into her coat pocket for her mace. Her fist smashed into his nose, her knee rose to hit his groin and the mace hit him right in the eyes.

She was backing away and heading toward the lighted area when she saw a tall, thin man with dark hair and eyes wearing a black coat approach. It was unbuttoned, and flapped a bit as he walked closer. His hands were covered with black leather gloves, and his hair was slicked back from his head. Ariadne held the mace in her hand tighter, ready to fight again if she needed to. "Are you okay?" he asked, brows furrowed in concern. His hands were out in the open, not reaching for her, and he seemed to be on the cautious side.

"I'm fine, thanks," Ariadne told him. She kept the mace in her hand as she walked toward the light. He seemed all right, but she wasn't stupid.

"You're pale," he observed, watching her closely as she approached. "Were you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"I'm fine," she repeated firmly.

He moved lightning fast, grasping her arm and spinning her behind him with his left arm while his right lunged forward into the darkness behind her. Ariadne heard the same grunting sound that her attacker had made when she slammed her fist into his nose, and the sound of someone staggering backward. She peeked around the tall stranger's coat and saw the man falling to the ground. There was blood on his face, his eyes were red and bloodshot, and his clothes were dirty and matted with unrecognizable stains.

The stranger turned, slowly and carefully so as not to startle her. "Hey. You're shaking," he murmured. He reached out and gently clasped her hands in his. "You're okay. C'mon. How about I stay close enough that he won't get any more bright ideas?"

Ariadne nodded, unable to take her eyes off of this stranger's warm brown ones. They crinkled a little as he smiled at her, and he held her fingers against his arm in a gallant gesture. He walked her toward the station. "Where are you headed?" he asked. The tone of voice might have been idle, but his eyes were bright and watched her closely.

She wasn't about to tell him she was going home. She wasn't some innocent idiot that would take him home just because he helped her out of a jam. If anything, she had to be wary that this wasn't a setup. She'd never been attacked before, after all. And if he hadn't distracted her, she could have spun around and taken out the attacker on her own. "I'm taking the Blue Line," she replied. It was vague enough and true enough to be an answer.

He smiled. "You don't know who I am, do you?" he asked, amusement in his tone.

"Look, thank you for that back there. I'll be okay now."

"Are you hungry? I was on my way to meet a few people. I can get you something, and it can get you away from this particular station at this particular time. You know, if he follows you home." The stranger seemed to hang on her decision, eyes almost too sharp for comfort.

"I'm fine, really. I don't need anything. And I never said I was going home."

"I assumed, sorry," he said, not looking apologetic at all. "C'mon. I don't get to play hero often. At least let me make sure you won't be followed?" He smiled winningly at her, dimples showing in his cheeks.

Maybe it was the dimples that did it. Or the fact that her dinner had been one paltry slice of pizza at five pm before her shift started. "I could eat," Ariadne admitted grudgingly.

The stranger smiled even wider. "Great. I'm Arthur, by the way."

"Ariadne," she replied with a nod. Then she wanted to kick herself. Her name was too idiosyncratic. She should have said Anna, something more common.

Arthur repeated her name, tasting the syllables on his tongue. "That's beautiful." There was something about the way he said her name that was too intimate, as if it was the vocal equivalent of a caress. Maybe that was why Ariadne allowed him to guide her to a restaurant and sit her down at the bar. "Rocco, I'm here to meet with Murphy and John. This is a friend of mine. Get her anything she wants. I'll be back in a few."

Before Ariadne could even blink, Arthur was heading to the back of the restaurant and left her sitting at the bar in front of Rocco the bartender. Rocco was old and graying, with a paunchy belly. He looked like he regularly ate too much greasy food and beer, but his eyes were kindly as they took in her appearance. "What do you recommend?" she asked, trying to sound casual. It must have worked, because he started chatting with her amiably about the food and drink options she could get at midnight. Apparently, the restaurant's kitchen closed at two am and the bar closed at four. There was some kind of commotion in the back of the restaurant, but Ariadne chalked it up as noise from the kitchen area. It sounded like a crash, and Rocco looked pale and sweaty, but Ariadne wasn't there to pay attention to what Rocco looked like.

She was finishing up the chicken parmesan that she had ordered when Arthur returned. It had certainly been more than a few minutes, and she frowned at him. "I almost thought you forgot about me," she said tartly as he slid onto a stool next to her. Rocco's eyes bulged when she said that, but Ariadne ignored him. She got the feeling that he was afraid of his own shadow in this place. "I was about to leave, you know."

"Things got out of hand," he said mildly, shrugging. His hands rested on the counter, and Ariadne could see that his knuckles were scraped raw and red, and that his fingers were long and almost elegant looking.

"Doesn't matter," she said sharply, reaching for her purse. "I'll just pay for my meal and leave."

"I'll take care of it," Arthur told her firmly, reaching for her wrist.

Ariadne glared at him, which made Rocco look at her as if she was crazy. She ignored him and even poked Arthur in the chest. "I don't need you feeling sorry for me. I didn't need your help before, and I can certainly pay for my own dinner. This wasn't a freaking date."

Someone nearby gasped and dropped a glass. The sound of it shattering was loud in the stunned silence.

Arthur merely grinned at her, dimples showing. "You're right. It wasn't. So why don't I take you out on a real date, then?"

Ariadne pulled out money from her wallet to cover her meal and huffed at Arthur. "Not interested."

"Are you sure?" he asked in a playfully wheedling tone.

"Definitely."

He hopped off of the bar stool when she did. "At least let me walk you back to the station."

"You're crazy," Ariadne snapped. "You're a total stranger."

"I'm trying not to be," Arthur replied evenly.

"You pick up random girls and ignore them for an hour all the time?" she asked sharply.

Someone else dropped something, which annoyed Ariadne. What the hell was wrong with these people? Then again, it was nearly one am. Her own grip on things wasn't so great at the moment either. Otherwise, she wouldn't be snapping at Arthur quite so much, and simply walk out.

"I'm sorry," he told her in a quiet voice. "Can I please make it up to you?"

She had to be tired, because while she initially meant to tell him to leave her alone, what came out of her mouth was a tired "Fine, whatever."

He visibly brightened, flashing her those adorable boyish dimples again. Somehow she let him escort her to the el station, and they swapped phone numbers to set up a date later. Ariadne even let Arthur bend down to give the back of her hand a soft kiss when her train arrived, and waved at him feebly when it pulled out of the station.

All in all, it was a very odd evening.

***

Ariadne glared at her phone as it rang and buzzed on her bedside table. She had hoped to sleep in, since it was a Saturday and she had no assignments due for school for once. She was planning to skip karate at 11 am and just enjoy the day off. She was hoping to go to the park and do some sketches, or sit at one of the local coffee shops and do absolutely nothing. But no, it was 7 am and she was being woken by her cell phone going off. She finally grabbed it; whoever it was that was calling her was dialing and hanging up before it could go to voice mail. She didn't even look at the caller ID. "What?" she snarled. Her family knew better than to call before 10 am; she had never been a morning person.

"Ah. This is the lovely Ariadne I remember," came Arthur's smooth voice. It sounded tinny over her cell phone, and there was the sound of wind blowing past the phone.

"What do you want?"

"I was hoping I would be able to take you to dinner tonight," Arthur replied, reacting as if she was complimenting him instead of being snarly.

"Are you hard up for dates or something?"

Arthur paused. "You're not involved with anyone. Is the thought of dinner with me that repulsive?"

A small part of Ariadne felt sorry for her nasty words. She had a tendency to speak before thinking, and sometimes it got her into trouble. "How do you know I don't have a boyfriend?" she asked, not yet willing to concede defeat.

"You didn't mention one when I asked you out the other day," Arthur told her reasonably. "You strike me as an unflinchingly honest person, so you would've said something if you had a boyfriend," he said. Not to mention he had been able to track her down rather easily and start surveillance. He didn't think she needed or wanted to know that amount of detail, however.

Ariadne sighed. "I'm not a morning person."

"I'm sorry, then. Should I call back later?"

She sighed again. "I'm already awake, don't bother."

"I know it's probably short notice," Arthur said softly, in that same tone of voice that was like a caress. "But I really would like to take you to dinner tonight."

"If I say no?"

"I'll call back later and try again."

"Why would you bother?" she asked, sitting up in bed and rubbing at her eyes. "There's got to be a dozen different girls that would be easier to date."

"Nothing worth anything is easy," he told her softly. "I think you're worth more than those dozen other girls."

"You've only just met me!"

"I'm a good judge of character," Arthur replied.

Not knowing why she did it, she exhaled noisily and said "Yes, I'll go to dinner with you tonight." She could practically hear his grin through the phone as she gave him directions to her apartment. "So where are we going?"

"Dress nice," he told her. "I'll be wearing a Tom Ford suit."

"What does that even mean?" Ariadne groused, pushing her hair out of her eyes. It was far too early in the morning for this kind of game.

"Expensive and well designed suits. You probably didn't get that great a look at mine the other night because of the coat," he replied easily. "Have you ever seen the new James Bond movies?" Arthur waited for her affirmative. "Those suits."

"Oh." She looked over at her closet, which had mostly jeans and knit sweaters. The most expensive thing in it was her gray interview suit, which she felt uncomfortable in. Dammit.

Arthur caught the dejected note in her voice. "Do you want me to send over something?"

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely," Arthur replied. "If you just tell me your size..."

"I'm not going to do that! I just met you!"

He chuckled at her righteous outrage. "It was worth a shot."

"I'm thinking twice about this dinner, Arthur."

He blew out a breath. "Okay. How about this? There's this guy I work with sometimes. He has a sister that lives in town. How about if she goes with you to help you pick out something? I'll cover it."

"You're not buying me a dress, Arthur," Ariadne said stiffly. "I'm not someone you can buy."

"It's..." He blew out another breath as he gathered his thoughts. "I'm not trying to buy you, Ariadne. I honestly just want to get to know you. I want to take you out to dinner, dance a little bit, then take you home. That's it. But you sounded like I said something terrible with the suit thing. I just want you comfortable tonight."

Ariadne started feeling bad in spite of herself. Arthur sounded like she had kicked a puppy or pulled the wings off of flies. "Fine, send her over. I'll be at home today." So much for sitting out in the park.

"Is after lunch better for you?" Arthur asked softly.

"Yes. Thank you for asking."

"Sometimes I forget. Most people don't make me ask for anything."

"That explains a lot," Ariadne told him dryly. He chuckled and she stared at the phone after their goodbyes. She was going to go dress shopping with a total stranger after lunch to go on a dinner date with a not-quite-total stranger. She had to be out of her mind.

***

The girl that Arthur sent over was tall and thin and very blonde. She had a persistent wry twist to her lips that told Ariadne that she knew she was beautiful and wanted everyone else to know it. Ariadne felt short and dumpy in comparison, and instantly regretted agreeing to meet her. "I'm Thomasina," she said, oozing self assurance as she stepped into Ariadne's tiny apartment. "Your new boyfriend works with my brother sometimes."

"He's not my boyfriend," Ariadne protested as she shut the door.

Thomasina's lips curled into a knowing smile. "My mistake."

"I just need a dress for dinner tonight. Something that would work well with Ford suits."

She nodded, and it seemed almost a crime that she could pull off high heels with jeans and a lacy blouse so well. "Eames has those, too, so I know what you'll need."

"Eames?"

"My brother," Thomasina said. "How about I drive to the shops?"

Ariadne didn't have a car, so she let Thomasina drive. She drove a Lexus, with too many bells and whistles attached to it. Ariadne was quietly cowed by all the casual wealth she was seeing. Maybe she should cut things off with Arthur before it even began. She couldn't run with this crowd. She was even more convinced when she saw the price tag on the dress she finally picked. It was over five hundred dollars, and that was nearly an entire month's rent. Ariadne wanted to refuse to let Thomasina use Arthur's platinum card to pay for the dress, but she needed to make the month's rent. She bit her lip uncertainly as the dress was rung up and Thomasina brought her to a shoe store and mentioned that she planned to have Ariadne pick out other accessories and a jacket to match the dress and shoes.

"This is too much," Ariadne protested, shaking her head. "I'll just cancel and return the dress."

That surprised Thomasina. "What? You can't do that! It's _Arthur._ You don't tell him no."

"Well, I'm about to," Ariadne said, digging her cell phone out of her coat pocket. "This is getting to be too complicated and ridiculous."

Thomasina grabbed her hand tightly, stopping her. "Don't do that," she said in hushed tones. "He'll think I said something to you."

"No. It's... This dress. And that I need new shoes and jewelry and a jacket and all this other nonsense, and I don't know the first thing about him other than you're frightened to death of what he thinks, and this is just fucking ridiculous." She yanked her arm away from Thomasina; if she stopped and thought about it, she was really angry with herself for agreeing to go along with this on her day off. She should have gone to karate class after all. She was feeling short and inadequate and _stupid,_ and all for a man she barely even knew.

"He's doing something nice," Thomasina said, almost uncertain. It made her feel a little bit better, though that made her feel like she was a horrible person. "Can't you accept the gift?"

"This is a _bribe."_

"It's just dinner."

"I won't be bought," Ariadne snarled.

"Do you talk to him this way?" Thomasina asked, sounding almost frightened.

"Of course I do! What the hell?"

"Just... Let me get you things to match the dress, all right? If it makes you feel better, you can try to return it tomorrow."

"I can't do that after I've worn it!" Ariadne cried, eyes wide with shock at Thomasina. "That's not right."

Thomasina sighed and visibly seemed to count to ten to herself. "Let me just do what I promised to do, and then you can yell at him tonight if you still feel up to it."

"Damn straight, I will."

"But really," she continued, that thread of fear in her voice. "Don't make him angry. Just don't. He doesn't like being contradicted, and..." Her voice trailed off a little uncertainly at the stubborn look on Ariadne's face. "It's your funeral, then."

Ariadne didn't like the fatalistic tone in her voice, but followed her into the store. If Thomasina was afraid of disobeying Arthur, that was one thing. Ariadne was afraid of nothing and no one, and she could give Arthur a piece of her mind herself.

***  
***


	2. Getting To Know You

Arthur arrived on time for the date, in a black tailored suit, black overcoat, shiny black shoes and his hair slicked back. He oozed elegance, and Ariadne felt like a fake in the dress she was wearing. It was an emerald green satin dress, with wide straps set across the bodice, and it clung to her curves before stopping at her knees. She had matching heels, jade jewelry and a lovely black wool coat to keep her warm. Nothing she was wearing had been her own; Thomasina had even insisted on getting brand new underwear for the occasion. Ariadne had never worn a garter belt and thigh high stockings before, and wiggling around to try to get the stockings clipped in the back had been almost a workout in itself. She had tried for more dramatic eye makeup and curling her hair to fit the dress, but it didn't feel real somehow. This wasn't her.

Something must have shown on her face. "Is everything okay?" Arthur asked, hesitance in his voice. It made Ariadne think twice about screaming at him, and she only nodded wordlessly at him. She was all right, really. She just felt awkward and out of place. He reached out and traced a curl tenderly. "You look exquisite."

Exquisite. Not just beautiful, but exquisite. She'd never been complimented like that, but she usually wore jeans and baggy sweatshirts, sometimes with a scarf to punch it up with color. She wasn't exquisite. Usually she was just painfully ordinary.

"Thank you," Ariadne replied. She had been raised to be polite, though so far half of the time she wanted to just yell at Arthur for his presumption. "So where are we going tonight?"

Arthur helped her put on the new coat and watched as she picked up the brand new clutch purse that Thomasina insisted she get. He extended his arm in a gallant gesture. Touched, Ariadne took his arm and let him escort her out. He waited while she locked all three locks on her door and dropped her keys into her purse. "We have reservations at one of the more exclusive restaurants in town." He smiled so wide there were dimples again.

"You just got me to agree this morning," Ariadne said, falling into step beside him. "How did you manage that?"

"I know the owner. I called in a favor."

Ariadne stared at the slick sports car he was driving, then stared up at him. "Are you trying to impress me or is this what you drive all the time?"

"I might be trying to impress you," Arthur answered with a smile. "That depends if it's working or not."

Ariadne couldn't help but laugh. "Depends on what kind of impression you're trying to make," she told him.

"Hopefully a good one."

"Don't leave me sitting by myself in a strange place for an hour, and we've already made an improvement."

Arthur winced slightly. "Not going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Oh, hell no," Ariadne told him with a grin. She was tiny but she was fierce. If he couldn't take it now, she might as well turn around and go home.

He opened the door for her, and she stared at him. "I was raised to be a gentleman," he offered.

"I'll let it slide this one time," Ariadne said graciously. She settled into the car and she looked around the interior as he came around to the driver's side. "Swanky."

Looking proud, he patted the steering wheel. "I say it's an investment, but I always wanted a car like this when I was a kid." His grin was infectious, and Ariadne couldn't help but smile in the face of his enthusiasm. The drive was smooth, and Ariadne looked mostly at his hands on the steering wheel. The scrapes from the other day were gone, but it almost looked like there was a nasty cut on the back of his wrist. The overcoat hid it, so she couldn't be sure if it was a shadow or not.

Arthur described himself as a "problem solver" for high end movers and shakers in the business world. "Sounds boring," she commented as he pulled into the parking lot for the restaurant.

His grin was almost wolfish. "Oh, most of the time it really isn't." The grin softened somewhat after a second, making Ariadne doubt if she had even seen it that way. "How about you? What do you do for a living?"

"I'm an architecture student," Ariadne began as they headed toward the door. She stopped when it became clear that they weren't waiting in line along with everyone else. In fact, the bouncer gave Arthur a nod and waved him through. "You weren't kidding about knowing the owner."

He held her close to him, enough that she could feel hard bumps under his coat. It wasn't quite in the shape of a wallet, but before she could figure out what it was, they were through the door and she had at least an inch of space between their bodies again. Ariadne let him guide her to the coat check counter, and somehow she wound up on his other side and pressed up against him as they reached the maitre d' to announce the reservation.

Ariadne stared at the menu and wondered where the prices were. Then again, if she had to ask how much something cost, she probably couldn't afford to be here under normal circumstances. She had no idea what she ordered, or what wine to pick to go with it. Everything looked slick and polished, very expensive and casually elegant. "This isn't the usual sort of place I go to," she commented, not sure what else to say.

"I thought this counted as a special occasion," Arthur said, a half smile on his lips.

"You just met me," she protested. He nodded, an amiable expression on his face. "So how is this special?"

"I don't usually date," Arthur admitted. "Too busy or everyone else is too intimidated."

"I noticed," she replied dryly.

Arthur gave her a soft, almost self deprecating laugh. "You really don't care about all this flashy stuff, do you?"

"No, I don't." It made her uncomfortable, though there was no need to tell him that. "I mean, seriously, Arthur. The dress and the jewelry and all that just for a date?" There was a momentary flash of vulnerability in his face, and Ariadne was almost certain it hadn't even been there. "I'm not even sure why I went along with all of this."

"I wanted this to be special. You know, dinner, dancing, getting to know each other. Isn't that how it's done?"

She didn't want to feel sorry for the poor little rich boy no one wanted to upset. Lord knew how explosive his temper must be to have everyone cowed by it. But Ariadne had never been one to back down from a challenge, and she had never been one to keep her mouth shut. It wasn't always a good trait. "There's dinner and a movie. Not necessarily a five star place where I'm wearing things worth more than my rent."

Arthur blinked, and Ariadne regretted letting her mouth run before her brain could sensor it. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Ariadne didn't know why, but it bothered her that he could read her so easily. They were practically strangers, even if he was doing his damnedest to be charming and polite and everything her mother would approve of. She couldn't help but be suspicious of that. "Let's just have dinner, okay?"

Dinner conversation moved to more innocuous topics, movies and music and local news. Occasionally Ariadne made comments about her parents. "They hate how I live alone in a big city," she said, sipping at the wine Arthur had ordered. She shook her head. "I've taken self defense. I can handle myself."

"I noticed. It's one of the things that drew me to you."

Ariadne lofted an eyebrow at him. "Really? What else?"

"Your confidence. It takes you from beautiful to breathtaking." His smile showed off his dimples, which was really too adorable for words. Maybe she had too much wine, too.

She found herself reaching forward across the table before she knew she meant to do it. "Oh."

Arthur grasped her hand firmly, his slim fingers sliding over her knuckles. "Shall we dance?"

"No one else is."

"There are places to go afterward. I wasn't sure if you still want to go or if you were mad at me."

"You make it really hard to stay mad at you sometimes..."

"Good."

He wasn't letting go of her hand, but somehow Ariadne didn't exactly mind it. "But just because you bought this outfit doesn't mean a thing."

Arthur blinked. "Doesn't it mean that I gave you a really nice gift?"

"I'm not easy."

"I never assumed you were," Arthur assured her. "Like I said, I just wanted you to feel comfortable tonight. No more, no less."

"So you have that much cash to spare that you can drop a lot of money on a girl you just met?"

"Well... Yeah." He shrugged. "I make more than that an hour. It's okay, really. It's just money."

 _It's just money,_ Ariadne thought, stunned. She was wearing two months' worth of rent. The coat was another month's worth. She was relatively quiet, answering whatever he asked. It was mostly about her architecture classes, what drew her to the subject, her thoughts on art history and the history of Chicago. She asked him about his life, and all she knew was that he was something of a workaholic, and was fairly high up in his organization. He was the problem solver, meaning he took care of any issues that came up for his immediate bosses, no matter how complicated or messy. There was a lot of competition, but he was able to handle it. He was fairly talented, and his dimples shone in his cheeks again when he smiled at the veiled innuendo.

The dance hall was an elegant place, and Ariadne was awkward in his arms. She didn't know how to dance to any of the music playing, and she cringed every time she stomped on his toes. "I think we should probably turn in," she said miserably.

"Let's just sit one out, okay? Maybe on a slower one I can teach you the steps."

"I'm not exactly coordinated when it comes to dancing."

"You handle yourself just fine when you're threatened," Arthur pointed out. "That's a lot of skill and coordination." He left his arm across her back, his hand comfortably at her waist. He still had the jacket of his suit on; most of the other men had taken theirs off. No one pointed that out to Arthur, and there were a handful of men that seemed to recognize him. Ariadne guessed that they were from work. She had gotten the impression that it was a large company, and she supposed that he was some kind of top executive or vice president of something or other.

"That's different."

"Not really," Arthur disagreed. The band shifted into a slower tempo, and Arthur grinned at her. His smile was infectious. "Come on, let's try again."

He was pressed up against her, though it wasn't a terrible feeling. He counted the steps for her and moved slowly, and she could feel herself fall into place. "Like a kata," she said with a smile.

"Kind of," he answered. "See? You can do this."

"This is the kind of dancing people do when they're old or at weddings."

Arthur's smile slid into a sensual one that left Ariadne breathless. "I can't imagine a better way to hold you, can you?"

It was painfully obvious he could, and Ariadne swallowed. "Look, Arthur..."

"Do you kiss on the first date? Or the second? Or is that the third?"

"You're awfully certain there will be more," she groused. According to Cosmo, the third date was the sex date. She'd never really gone according to that plan like other girls. Then again, she also didn't date as much as her classmates did.

"Hope springs eternal," he told her loftily, that dimpled smile on his face again. "We'll do whatever you want to do for our next date."

"What if I said I wanted to go spelunking?"

"I know a guy that does that for a living. Did you know that cave diving is an actual profession?"

Ariadne wanted to sputter at him, but his expression was all too serene. "So you'd go?"

"I'd get his opinion on where the good caves are. And what I should bring or do and all that." He grinned at her surprise. "I'd go. Do you really want to go spelunking?"

"Let's just try bowling or something ordinary first. If that goes well - _if,_ mind you - then I might considering crawling around a cave in the dark with you."

He twirled her around and then brought her back against him. Her body collided with his, and she got the impression of leather straps beneath his suit jacket before it was covered up by the lapel again. The fabric was soft against her fingers, and she could feel the shape of his chest easily. Her fingers twitched over him, her head tilted up to meet his amused gaze. His lips were curled in that smile she was growing accustomed to seeing on his face, as if he knew a fantastic secret she didn't. Arthur slid his hands down her back, and it was disturbing how comforting that felt.

The music changed over to a faster song, but they remained standing there on the dance floor staring at each other. Ariadne had to pull herself away from him with difficulty. His hands pulled her back toward him for a fraction of a second, but then he let go. "You never did answer my question."

"Which one?"

"Do you kiss on the first date?"

Once she did that. Of course, that particular relationship had fallen apart after two months when she refused to sleep with that loser. "Depends on the date."

"Did this one go well enough for a kiss?"

"We'll see by the time we get to the end of it."

"You are pretty hard to please, aren't you?"

"I told you there were probably a dozen different girls that wouldn't give you this much trouble."

"I don't want them," he said, steel beneath the velvet tones. The intensity of his gaze was almost disturbing. "I want _you."_

Before she could reply, he swept her up in his arms and kissed her soundly. She could feel the frustration and desire in his kiss, and her lips seemed to part of their own accord. She certainly hadn't meant to be clinging to that suit jacket of his, mouth open beneath his and her tongue sliding into his mouth.

When they finally broke for air, Ariadne was panting, her blood singing in her veins. Arthur was watching her, that strange expression on his face again. He was almost vulnerable, waiting for her response. He would accept whatever she said, even if she said she never wanted to see him again. She had the feeling that it was a luxury most people didn't get.

"Oh," she murmured, stunned. "Wow."

Arthur brushed his thumb across her lower lip. "I'd like to kiss you again."

"You're asking this time?" she asked archly.

"I forget sometimes. Can I kiss you again?"

"Y-"

The second kiss was just as searing as the first, and he even picked her up off the ground a little. She clung to him, a soft noise in her throat that could have been fear but was actually desire. She wanted more of this kiss, more of this kind of attention. What kind of lover would he be?

He brought her home at her request after that, and didn't ask to be invited in. He kissed her again at the door, his hands roaming all over her back. It didn't matter that she was wearing that expensive coat over the ridiculously expensive dress. She could almost feel his hands on her skin.

It was all she could think about as she tumbled into dreams.

***

The emerald green dress, jade jewelry, green high heels and black wool coat all mocked Ariadne after her date with Arthur. The date had definitely not been a dream, and she had agreed to see Arthur again on the basis of those searing kisses alone. She flopped backward on her bed and covered her face with her pillow as she groaned. "What was I _thinking?"_ she asked herself. She was going to an arcade after going to an ordinary place for lunch today. There might or might not have been a movie offered afterward; she had been too stunned to listen as he drove her home the week before. The date clothes probably should have been put away, but she couldn't help it. She'd never owned anything so expensive and pretty before, and she couldn't help but remember the way he looked at her while she was wearing them.

She didn't have a lot planned for this Sunday. She sometimes worked at a local pizzeria on Sundays filling in for workers that called in sick, but they hadn't called or left messages saying that they needed her this particular week. There was nothing to distract her from her thoughts until lunch. Two dates in a row. That was downright unheard of for her.

Arthur was perfectly charming, which didn't alleviate her suspicions in the slightest. He cracked jokes with her despite her surly attitude and settled in next to her into a booth at the TGI Friday's. "You _can_ sit across from me," Ariadne told him. She had managed to get her jacket off, but now his jacketed body was shoved close to hers. It was too hot in the restaurant for the leather jacket and sweater he was wearing, but he did look good. That was probably why he was doing it.

"But I like sitting next to you." He flashed her a grin, one she glowered at, which only made his smile wider. "C'mon, I'm really not that bad."

"Tell that to everyone else who's scared to death of you."

"Not my fault they scare easy."

Ariadne eyed him warily. "Somehow, I think you enjoy that kind of attention."

"Well... I don't discourage it, certainly. Makes my job a helluva lot easier sometimes." He shrugged. "But I don't scare you."

"You're spoiled," she told him loftily. "I'm not scared of a spoiled brat."

Arthur laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, you have no idea..."

"Ha. I've been babysitting since I was fourteen. You have the emotional depth of a toddler."

"I'm wounded."

"Take off that jacket, will you? It's hot in here and you keep jamming me in the ribs with your elbow."

Shrugging, Arthur rose from his seat. "I'll head to the restroom. When the waitress comes, order a soda for me."

Ariadne rolled her eyes. "I won't be sitting here alone for an hour, will I?"

"Still won't let me live that one down, huh?"

"Not on your life," she told him with a grin.

She watched him walk to the bathroom, though she would have denied it fiercely if he turned around. She was annoyed with him at times, but she was only human. He worked the jeans and leather jacket look really well. She could be as shallow as anyone else.

When he returned a few minutes later, he tossed the leather jacket on the bench across from Ariadne and took her jacket to do the same. His sweater was a bit bulky in spots, and hung a little more loosely than she had expected. He slid into the booth next to her, wedging her against the half wall. His thigh brushed against hers, and he merely grinned at her when she glared at him. Rolling up his sleeves a bit, Ariadne could see a long cut that had scabbed over. It ran along the outer edge of his right forearm, from his wrist to underneath his sweater sleeve. There was no way to tell how far up it went, and the jagged cut looked red and angry around the scabs. Arthur followed where her eyes were looking, then looked back at her with a blank expression.

"That looks painful," Ariadne murmured after a moment. "Is it infected?"

"Looks worse than it is, really." Arthur's tone was mild, and he took her right hand in his left one, thumb caressing her knuckles.

"What happened?"

"Got into a fight with a competitor at work. It was a lot of lethal sarcasm."

Ariadne shook her head at his bland tone. "Sarcasm doesn't cut like that."

"You'd be surprised." He grinned at her suddenly. "You care, don't you? Just a little?"

"I'm a receptionist at a walk in clinic," she told him. "Consider it professional interest."

Arthur snickered. "How can I get you professionally interested in me, then?"

"I'm an architect, not a doctor. Find someone else to cop a feel."

His grip was tight on her hand when she wanted to pull away. "I don't want you to just cop a feel, Ariadne. I'd like the long term. As much as you're willing to give me."

It was on the tip of her tongue to say something cutting, but she forgot what she was planning to say as soon as she saw his intense look. "Why me?" she asked instead, not liking how breathy her voice sounded.

She was saved from his response by the waitress returning for their lunch orders, but she didn't stay for long afterward. Arthur leaned in close, making her feel crowded into the corner of the booth. "I like spending time with you, Ariadne." His lips hovered near her forehead, and he pressed them there after a moment. "There's so much I'd like to say, but it's not something easy to talk about."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Arthur pulled back slightly and let his fingers slide across her cheek. He had a wistful look on his face. "If I'd met you years ago, things would be different now."

"You mean you'd take no for an answer?"

He snorted and shook his head with a smile on his face, but the intense moment was broken. "Somehow I think I would never like hearing that where you're concerned."

"No," she said deliberately, a wry grin on her face.

Arthur laughed and nudged her shoulder with his. He liked touching her, and no matter where she wiggled on the bench, he followed her. She sighed and nudged his shoulder to get him to scoot back toward the aisle. Her hip bumped against his, and there was something hanging off of his belt that bumped into her when she wiggled in the seat. Without stopping to ask, she lifted the corner of his sweater, exposing multitool and cell phone holders. "You could've just asked."

"You don't strike me as a handy kind of guy that you'd need to bring along a tool kit."

"Oh, you'd be surprised how handy I can be," Arthur replied with a vague leer in his voice. "Tools are always good to have on hand." He smiled when she dropped the edge of his sweater. "You are very welcome to take the rest of my clothes off in private, you know."

Blushing fiercely, Ariadne kept her hands to herself and primly folded them on the table top. "Not interested."

Her blush grew stronger when he laughed as he leaned closer to whisper "Liar."

"You keep bumping me with heavy things in your pockets. I was curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"Satisfaction brought it back," she replied immediately.

Arthur laughed. "I hadn't heard that one."

"I read way too much Stephen King as a kid."

Thankfully, the conversation turned to books and movies again, and Ariadne felt less embarrassed and awkward during the date. She was feeling comfortable enough to agree to the movie with Arthur, though she almost regretted it when she saw the startled look the girl at the ticket booth shot them. "Do you know _everybody_ in town?" Ariadne asked incredulously. "And you intimidate _everybody?"_

"Everybody but you, it seems," Arthur replied.

Ariadne snorted. "Doesn't say much for this city, does it?"

He laughed. "I suppose not."

After the movie, Arthur took her for a walk. It was still early enough that going to dinner would be awkward, and Ariadne was still full from lunch anyway. She was trying to think of a gracious way to end the date when Arthur grasped her hand and pulled her into an antique shop that was still open. "I'm about to close!" the owner replied, coming toward them from where he had been tidying up his shop. The owner paled when Arthur whipped his head around to stare him down. "Oh." The owner held his hands up in a placating gesture. "I didn't recognize you, sir. I'm so sorry, sir."

"Close up the shop. Lock the door and don't let anyone in."

"Arthur, what's going on?" Ariadne asked, staring at him. The good humored expression was gone, and there was this glint in his eyes that made her want to back away and shiver. His eyes were hard and his jaws tight with suppressed anger. "What's happening?"

"We were being followed. Don't worry, I won't allow you to get hurt."

She hadn't seen a damn thing, and was about to open her mouth to yell at him for scaring her when she noticed a shadowy figure pass by the storefront window. She grabbed his left arm, her fingers tight enough on his jacket that he had to feel her grasp. "What the hell is going on?" she hissed.

Looking down, Arthur's expression was fierce and his eyes were worried. "One of my competitors just decided to up the ante. I promise you, I'll keep you safe."

"That sounds like such bullshit," Ariadne began, but there was something in his expression that stopped her. She almost didn't recognize that expression; she had seen him flirting, determined, amused or serious. She had never seen this almost angry expression, and if she wasn't as strong willed as she was, she would be afraid of him. This was probably why everyone else at work was afraid of him. "You're serious," she murmured after a moment.

The hand she wasn't clinging to was at his waist, almost sliding under his sweater. "Deadly serious," he intoned.

"You're scaring me," she said softly.

Arthur took his hand from his waist and closed it over hers. "I'm sorry, Ariadne." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'll keep you safe."

"I want to go home now," Ariadne said firmly.

His eyes flicked to the front door, then he turned back to the shop owner. "We need to go out the back door."

"It's far from where you parked," Ariadne protested as the shop owner hastily agreed with Arthur. "I don't even know where the hell we are."

"We'll take the Blue Line," Arthur said, guiding her to the back of the shop. "I'll come back later for my car. That's not as important as you being safe."

"The hell?" she cried, frowning at him. "You're acting like he's going to kill me or something."

"He's the kind that gets what he wants, no matter what the cost. I at least have _some_ scruples."

"You do?" she blurted, surprised. "This I gotta see."

The tension in Arthur's face broke for a moment, and that fond smile he had for her was back. "You see it all the time."

"I see you being a spoiled brat, Arthur."

He laughed as the shop owner cowered and backed away abruptly. "There's that," he allowed. He went into the alley behind the shop first, scanning it with narrowed eyes. "I think we can get to the Blue from here."

Ariadne followed him through the alleys and side streets. She had no idea where she was until they came out onto one of the main streets and she could see the el station. "If this is how regular dates with you are, it's probably not a good idea to keep dating," Ariadne murmured.

Arthur flashed her a pained look. "Please don't say that."

"I can make my own way home," Ariadne told him, seeing the train approach the station.

"I'll worry," he said softly. "Please let me at least see you home so I know you're safe."

She gave him a searching look. "You would, wouldn't you? You're actually asking me."

"I don't bother with anyone else."

"Trust me, I've noticed," Ariadne muttered.

She didn't talk to him on the el ride or the walk to her apartment. She reminded herself that she was angry with him, that he was starting to annoy her. Being scared made no sense, and it was easier to tell herself that he was being a dick than honest. If he was being honest, then dating him would be a horrible mistake.

And God help her, she had started actually _liking_ him, and had even sort of looked forward to this date.

Ariadne sat heavily down on her couch after Arthur left. She refused to let him stay, refused to answer if she would see him again. Fighting the urge to scream, she dug into her pocket for her cell phone and texted her friend from work. Yusuf was attending medical school, and was currently in his third year. He was starting his clinical rotations, so they had met at the walk in clinic. Normally the students and the reception staff wouldn't interact much, but Yusuf was one of those kinds of people that actually cared about his patients, and sometimes stayed late to make sure they really did have a ride home. It was on one of those late nights that they started talking. He drew the line at driving people home, but he was willing to wait in the lobby with patients until cabs arrived.

He was free and wasn't studying for anything at the moment. Making a face at her phone, Ariadne decided to go out. Sitting alone in her apartment didn't feel like a good idea anymore. Maybe Arthur's paranoia was starting to rub off on her.

***  
***


	3. Upping The Ante

"I can't believe you're _dating,"_ Yusuf said, chuckling. They were sitting at a table in a hole in the wall diner where the food was good and cheap, so that both students could easily throw a couple of dollars down and not worry about dipping too far into their loans. Ariadne resisted the urge to throw something at his head, but barely. "I thought you said you planned to stay celibate while you completed your Masters."

"Shut up," Ariadne groused. "I didn't plan on it."

"He sounds rich."

"Casually and extremely so," she replied, sounding disgusted. She looked up at Yusuf's puzzled expression. "What?"

"You've got something against rich guys?"

She shook her head. "Not that. Everybody around him acts scared, like making him angry is a horrible thing. So he's such a spoiled brat, it's not funny. Plus, he has some kind of stalker."

Yusuf snickered. "Dude, I need to meet this boyfriend of yours."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"You wouldn't get this worked up over someone that isn't," Yusuf pointed out.

"I need a girlfriend," Ariadne sighed.

"Can I watch?"

This time, Ariadne chucked one of her French fries at him. "Shut up."

Yusuf laughed and leaned back in his seat. "If I ask Sarah to come over..."

"She doesn't like me. She thinks I'm trying to steal you away from her." Ariadne sighed. "Has she really no concept of the platonic girlfriend?"

"Her last friend stole her ex."

"Baggage is a horrible thing," Ariadne replied, getting a solemn nod in return. "I can't believe I actually got scared this afternoon."

"Well, he was sounding a little creepy, to be perfectly honest. Dragging you down back alleys and into some store where you didn't know where you were..." Yusuf leaned forward again. "The big question is, do you think he was right? Were you being followed?"

"I don't know," she said in sour tones. She looked down at the table for a moment and then looked back up at Yusuf. "There was a shadow at the window, but it could've been anybody. He didn't seem jumpy until after that point." But he did behave oddly at times, which worried her. There was something she was missing, some obvious answer that she simply didn't see. That plus the worry made her feel stupid, and she always got angry when she felt stupid. She should be smarter than that, and it wasn't fair to take it out on Arthur the way she had been doing.

"So he's got a stalker. You did say he was rich. Maybe those movies where they kidnap rich people for ransom is true."

"See, us regular people don't have problems like that."

"Nope," Yusuf agreed amiably. "We just have problems making the rent or getting enough student loans, or figuring out how to stuff another ten hours into the day to get all of our reading done on time."

"Shut up," Ariadne told him with a laugh. "Stop cheering me up."

"I thought that was the point of all this?" he asked with a grin.

"Well, yeah, maybe." She laughed and shook her head. There was no point in borrowing trouble where Arthur was concerned. "Speaking of readings, I probably should do more background reading for my next project. When's your rotation up?"

"Another two weeks, then I do my surgery rotation. I already get up too damned early. I'm going to have to get up at fucking four in the morning for three months, pray the OR is done on time and I can get home by nine or ten to be in bed by eleven. Oh, and brush up on my anatomy, since the surgical attendings are goddamn sadists that like to pimp the shit out of all of us students."

"That sounds nasty," Ariadne told him solemnly. "Make sure they use lots of lube and gloves."

Yusuf sputtered and spit out his drink. "Dammit, I look like I just wet myself."

Ariadne burst out laughing. "You've got scrubs in your car."

"In this weather? My balls are going to crawl up into my stomach."

"Thanks for the visual," she replied, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Sarah is a saint to put up with you."

"She's planning to do ortho. Those guys curse worse than the surgery residents. Let me tell you, that's an accomplishment."

She snickered, shaking her head. The walk in clinic doctors all seemed nice enough, but the surgical doctors that came in for the follow up days made Arthur look like a boy scout. "So you're perfect for each other."

Yusuf grinned, a soft and tender thing as he thought of his girlfriend. "We're talking about doing the joint Match when we have to apply. I've actually been thinking of getting her a ring and proposing."

"No," Ariadne said in mock horror.

"Yeah, I know, right? Fuck, that scares me more than waking up at four am."

"As well it should, man. You're talking about the rest of your life."

"She's worth it," Yusuf replied, his grin widening. With a shock, Ariadne realized that Arthur looked at her the same way. "It's just a matter of saving up the cash."

"You know, one of my classmates has a brother that works in the diamond business. It goes over my head, but I could get his number for you."

"That would be awesome. Thanks."

Ariadne grinned. "That's my thank you for listening to me whine about Arthur."

"Hey, it makes the time fly by, doesn't it?"

Ariadne thought about it for a moment. "Shit. I _do_ like him."

Yusuf laughed and Ariadne threw another French fry at him. "Next time there's a party, invite him over. I'd love to meet him."

"That would get Sarah off my back, too."

"Yeah. It would be nice if she would stop threatening you."

"True. I like my insides right where they are," Ariadne agreed with a grin. She knew Sarah's threats weren't genuine, but she didn't enjoy listening to them every time Ariadne sat too close to Yusuf at parties. "I guess this means I forgive him for scaring me today."

"I guess so," Yusuf agreed. "And hey. It could be worse."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not like he's some crazy serial killer after you, right?"

"God. My parents would never let me out of their sight if he was," Ariadne said in an aggrieved tone. "I'm lucky they didn't chain me up in the basement to try to keep me safe."

Yusuf snorted. "Knowing you, you'd find a way out."

"Yeah, pretty much," she agreed with a smile. "They gave up, but they're still trying to be overprotective." She sighed. "It would be cute if it was happening to someone else."

Yusuf laughed. "You done? We should probably both get home. School and work tomorrow."

"Don't remind me," Ariadne groaned. "Late shift again tomorrow at the clinic."

"Sucks to be you," he replied with a laugh. "Aaron's got that shift. I'm on days this week."

"You suck," Ariadne sighed. "He's a robot, I swear. No emotions whatsoever. He'd do great in radiology."

"No patient contact."

"Exactly," she said with a smile.

Feeling better, they parted and Ariadne headed home. It was nice to be around normal people every once in a while. Of course, her definition of normal was probably getting pretty warped after hanging out with medical students.

***

It was almost disgusting how well Arthur seemed to fit in with Ariadne's friends over the next few weeks. Sarah loved his sense of humor, of course, and Yusuf threw Ariadne a thumbs up behind Arthur's back. Ariadne's classmates thought Arthur was perfect, and she had a hard time coming up with ways to convince them otherwise. Not that she wanted to.

She liked being with him, even though sometimes it was frustrating to get a straight answer out of him. There was still that vague sense that she was missing something; he had random hours for his mysterious work, behaved as if that stalker of his was violently dangerous, and was often vague about the bruises or cuts he had on his hands and arms. She assumed he was getting into fights, but that was awkward to ask about. How could she simply say "Arthur, I think you're getting beat up on a regular basis and I worry about you?"

It was probably also her own mistrust about anything good happening in her life. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, so she was probably reading too much into things. Arthur treated her well, and she was starting to suspect that she loved him. He held her hand and acted as if she was the most important thing in the world to him, and his kisses made her rethink her policy on celibacy while at school. Arthur looked good in anything he wore, and he looked delicious sprawled across her ratty couch as they watched movies at her apartment. If anything, he seemed to understand that she wasn't entirely comfortable with more than heavy petting. He was also entirely too reasonable when she threw him out of her apartment at two in the morning because she couldn't trust her own self control.

Ariadne texted him an apology in between classes. _Sorry, was silly last nite. Still on for this weekend? I'd love to go out again._

He immediately replied _Of course! And if we do go too far, I promise I'll still respect you in the morning. ;)_ which made her laugh. It was hard to stay mad at him.

Ariadne looked up, a smile still on her face, and stopped short. Her classmates grumbled and had to move around her, but she didn't notice them. Sitting on the steps to the School of Architecture was Arthur in his black overcoat, which was open and revealed another one of those dark Tom Ford suits he favored. The suit jacket was open as well, even though the wind was chilly and whipping around his face. He must not have put in as much gel for his hair today, because the wind was able to move it. There was a blond man of similar height but with a stockier build nearby, and both of them appeared to be waiting for someone.

It had to be her. There was something menacing about the way they sat there, though she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was. They didn't look angry, but there was a firm and determined expression on their faces that bothered her. Arthur didn't get that way around her, though she saw a milder form of that expression whenever he talked about work. She was tempted to run away, but that wasn't her style. She had gone through years of arguing with her parents to let go a little bit and stop being overprotective. She told them that she could handle herself, had taken all the self defense classes in the world. If she ran from a man she was dating, it would only prove her parents right.

She had mace in her pocket anyway. If she had to, she'd use it and run, though she didn't feel that Arthur would harm her. It was irrational, probably, but she knew it was true.

Arthur visibly brightened as soon as soon as he spotted Ariadne. She had to suppress the urge to run across the steps to kiss him. She wasn't the kind of girl that threw herself at men just because they smiled at her. Or had those adorable dimples. Or gave expensive presents and tried to make her feel like a queen.

Well, damn. She really liked him.

Ariadne managed to walk at a steady pace toward him. "Hey. I didn't think you would wait for me after class today."

"We've been waiting a while," Arthur replied, patting the step beside him.

"It's bloody cold to do that, too," the blond groused as she sat down. He didn't sound particularly angry, so Ariadne supposed that he was a friend of Arthur's. Now that she thought about it, she found it odd that she hadn't met any of his friends before today; she wouldn't count Thomasina, since she had been terrified of Arthur. He had always said that they were busy or that he didn't have many friends.

"Have you noticed anyone strange hanging around lately?" Arthur asked Ariadne quietly. "As if you were being followed, I mean."

"No. Why? Is it that stalker thing again?" she asked, frowning at him. "Have you been fighting with someone?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, no. I think I took care of that stalker, but I need to be sure..."

"I told you not to be so sure of yourself," the blond grumbled under his breath. "Stick in the mud with no imagination," he continued.

Ariadne lofted an eyebrow and looked at the blond. "And you are?"

He blinked at her, then a slow smile spread across his face. "A... coworker, I suppose is the best way to describe it. I did hear you were fairly direct, but no one mentioned how luscious and little you are, too."

She turned to Arthur and patted his hand gently. "If this is how all your friends are, then I completely understand why you didn't bother introducing us."

Arthur grinned as his coworker made an annoyed noise. He grew serious after a moment. "Are you sure you haven't noticed anything odd lately?"

"Other than you being mysterious?" she asked with another lofted eyebrow. She resisted the urge to poke him or try to figure out what the hell he had on under his jacket. He was always vague about what he was carrying, and she had the feeling that she didn't really want to know. Maybe the mystery was a good thing. If she knew for sure what was happening with him, she would have to do something about it.

He smiled faintly and shook his head. "Has anyone been following you? Going through your mail?" At her alarmed expression, Arthur took her hands in his. "I've been taking care of things behind the scenes, but someone has started leaving me messages about you. They know your schedule, your friends, where we plan to go on our dates..."

"You're serious," she said, stunned. He nodded unhappily. "You're scaring me again."

Arthur nodded, and whispered "I'm sorry. I only just got the latest threat, and I don't like it."

"I should tell you to go away." Ariadne felt awful just for saying that, but all the odd pieces of information about him couldn't be ignored if someone was threatening her life.

"You won't, will you?" he asked, squeezing her hands in his tightly.

"I must be out of my goddamn mind," Ariadne grumbled, shaking her head. Arthur grinned at her in relief, dimples flashing. Funny, she'd never had a thing for dimples before. Then again, she used to actually listen to her warning bells before. He was upsetting her internal balance, but for some reason she wasn't put off by it.

"This is Eames," Arthur mentioned, pointing at the other man. "I thought you two should meet, just in case."

"In case what?"

"My competitor," Arthur continued as if she hadn't spoken, "was called away on business rather suddenly last night."

"Imagine that," Eames snarked.

Arthur shot him a glare, but kept talking. "He should be away for a few days at the very least, if not a week."

"If _you_ took that job," Eames interrupted, "we'd have it done in two days and that would be the end of it."

"But I'm not taking the job," Arthur replied in a tight voice, staring at him pointedly. "Which means we probably have a week to make preparations."

"Preparations?" Ariadne asked, starting to sound alarmed. "Preparations for what?"

"For your safety," Arthur said, looking at her apologetically. "In case he does something stupid, like go after you to get to me."

"The hell?"

"I might be going overboard-"

"Might?!"

"-but I'd rather be safe than sorry." Arthur grasped her hands with his gloved ones, and she thought she caught the flash of metal inside of his coat. "You already mean too much to me to let something bad happen to you."

"You're... Please say you're being melodramatic," Ariadne whispered, feeling a chill roll down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold. "Please say we're on candid camera."

Eames burst out into laughter, making Arthur glare at him. "What? This is _priceless._ I never thought I'd see the day where a five foot nothing slip of a girl could leave you weak in the knees, Arthur. This is like winning the lottery. Come to think of it, I should buy a lottery ticket. I might just win."

"That's not nice," Ariadne told him sharply. "Shut up and butt out."

Now it was Arthur's turn to smile at Eames' discomfiture. "He... We've worked together way too long," Arthur began. "He thinks he's funny."

"And you! What does he mean, weak in the knees? We haven't been dating that long!"

"Is it the length of time that's important?" Arthur asked quietly, her hands still clasped within his. "A week, a month, a year, whatever. You're important to me."

Ariadne's eyes widened. He had that expression on his face again, the one that Yusuf's had reminded her of. He was thinking of hearts and stars and babies or something like that, the kind of thing that forever relationships were made of. She didn't know how she felt about that.

He frowned as he looked over her hands. There were cuts and red, raw-looking patches on her hands. "What happened? Did someone do something...?"

At first, Ariadne didn't know what he was talking about. "Oh! No, I nicked myself a couple of times with the exact-o knife and got a few burns from handling the glue gun too soon. Common architect hazards, really," she said with a careless shrug. Her hands were cold, but the soft light in Arthur's eyes made her insides warm.

"I worry about you," Arthur murmured softly. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you. Especially not because of me."

Arthur looked so forlorn that Ariadne sighed. It was hard to stay mad at him for too long. "I should be pissed off at you."

"You aren't?" he asked hopefully.

"I don't know yet. Ask me again in an hour after I've eaten."

"Let's go to lunch, then."

"Oh! Let's go to Maurice's!" Eames chimed in, grinning at the two of them. "He owes me a favor, and I can call it in as a lunch for us."

"Cheap favor," Ariadne commented.

"You obviously haven't been to Maurice's," Arthur replied with a knowing smile.

"What?"

"Five star restaurant, top chefs and sous-chefs, and Maurice himself would wait on us hand and foot if I asked," Eames replied, looking pleased with himself. "He's a nasty piece of work most of the time, he is, and I just like rubbing it in his face that he needs to work for us."

Ariadne frowned at him. "I don't think I like that attitude much."

"Trust me, darling, you'll understand it when you meet the man. He's not very pleasant at all. Personally, I think he's disappointed his son didn't follow in his footsteps and continue with the family business. He took a decided turn for the nasty and vindictive at that point."

"Why? What does his son do?"

"Law enforcement," Eames said, shrugging. He offered a hand to help them up, but Arthur glared at him until he withdrew. "Arthur, you asked for my help on this one."

"Help with what?" Ariadne asked, looking between the two men.

"Protection. In case Dom is as crazy as I think he is," Arthur replied in a low tone.

"Then why aren't you telling the police this? If you know someone who's a police officer, it should be easy to do. He made threats, you said. There are anti-stalking laws about that!"

"It's something I need to take care of myself."

"Oh, come on, now," Ariadne protested. "That's just ridiculous. Why you?" she shook her head. "You can't just go out and do police work on your own. You're not police."

"No, we're most definitely not police," Eames replied with a smile. It made Ariadne feel like she was missing something, and she hated that feeling.

"Anyway, why would he stalk me? I don't even know the guy. I'm not anybody important."

"You are to me," Arthur told her softly, his hand sliding down the back of her coat. It was another old fashioned gesture, one that allowed him to be in far too close proximity to her body. Usually there would be alarm bells ringing in her head at this, but for some reason Arthur seemed to bypass them.

Ariadne had no reply to that other than a wide eyed stare. "Oh," she breathed. It still didn't quite make sense to her. "Um..."

"Now that you've stunned the poor girl to silence," Eames began, "let's go eat. We're starving and a five star restaurant awaits."

Maurice's restaurant was beautiful, and like something out of a magazine. It was all clean lines and modern touches, glass and metal and grays. Arthur and Eames fit in perfectly, but Ariadne was decidedly underdressed. She also hated the coldness of the decor, as if there was no soul to the place at all. It was cold and harsh, an emotional wasteland of architecture, and her nose wrinkled in distaste even as the maitre d' hastened to get them all seated.

"Something wrong, Ariadne?" Arthur asked in concern.

"This place," she began, shaking her head. "Not what I would design at all."

Eames looked interested. "Really? What would you do?"

Ariadne dug around in her bag for a notebook and pen. She began to talk as she quickly sketched a rough design, talking about the use of color and accessories to build up the proper atmosphere of a place as much as the actual structure of the space. "So this, to me, screams that it's a cold, imperious place. It's meant to show off wealth, not to bring friends over to spend time together. This isn't a place where you'd go to have dinner with someone you loved. This is a business place."

Impressed, Eames looked at Arthur. "She's got it in one."

"You've been here all of five minutes," Arthur said quietly, sipping his water.

"And I'm in a masters level program. That was the easy part."

Eames chuckled. "I like you," he said, nodding. "Not humble at all when it's something you're good at. I've always thought the false modesty was pretentious."

"Why be modest? I'm just telling the truth."

"Oh, yes, Arthur. She's a keeper."

Ariadne pointed at Eames with her pen. "I am not a pet to be _kept,_ you know. You're being rude."

Arthur managed to contain his laughter. "You should apologize to her, Eames."

"What?"

"She'll make fun of you and your bad taste in ties. She can be very blistering if she puts her mind to it."

"I'm rethinking this idea of dating you, Arthur," Ariadne threatened. She glared when Eames laughed at Arthur's discomfort. "Anyway, this whole protection thing you're talking about makes no sense to me. I'm just a student."

"Dating someone particularly important in the organization," Arthur said with a sigh. "I didn't think I would endanger you like this."

There was nothing to throw at his head but silverware, and that would leave a mark. Ariadne settled for kicking his shin. "Stop being such a drama queen, Arthur, seriously!"

"Ow! You kicked me!"

"Be glad I didn't throw my salad fork at your forehead," Ariadne replied. She ignored Eames' snicker at Arthur's expense. They managed to eat lunch, and she decided that Eames wasn't a bad sort of guy, just too sarcastic most of the time. It was probably done to keep people off center, and he was surprised when she gave back as good as she got. While they were enjoying their coffees, she noticed an old, thin man with sharp, angry eyes headed toward their table. "Let me guess... That's Maurice?"

Eames casually leaned back in his chair and tracked where Ariadne was looking. Arthur simply turned around and nodded sharply at the man. "The one and the same."

Maurice approached and ignored Ariadne completely. "What's the meaning of this? There wasn't to be any further business here until the meeting next month!" he growled. His voice was gravelly and deep, and Ariadne could imagine him terrorizing his kitchen staff for the sheer joy of it.

"We're having lunch, Maurice," Arthur replied coolly. "Do you have an issue with this?" It was as if a mask had slipped over his face; there was no expression in his features and his eyes were glittering but empty pools. It seemed to cow Maurice a bit, as he stepped back slightly.

"There are strict rules for these things, you understand," Maurice said again, bluster in his tone.

"Of course there are," Arthur agreed. "I enforce them." His gaze flicked up at Maurice. "Do we need to go over the terms of your agreement with Saito-sama?"

Maurice blanched. "Of course not. Don't mention this to him. Please don't mention this to him."

Arthur smiled thinly at him, and it wasn't a pleasant smile in the slightest. "Then let us finish our meal in peace, Maurice. This is simply lunch today, not business. You'd know if I came in for a business meeting with you."

He left, resembling a mean dog that had been beaten down. Ariadne didn't know what the interchange was about, but it seemed almost creepy to see the light in Arthur's eyes die as if a switch had been flipped. "Arthur..."

"I'm very sorry about that," he said, though his face was expressionless. "I didn't mean to have business interrupt anything."

Ariadne shook her head and put away her notebook and pen. "You know, I don't think you have time to be dating right now."

That pained expression was back on his face. "Ariadne..."

"You're talking about someone stalking us. Then you act like it's normal and I shouldn't be worried, but at the same time you're telling me I have to take precautions. Or you have to make plans for things. Or something." She leaned back in her hair. "I don't know what to think anymore. I know I keep making excuses for this in my head, but I'm running out of them." She looked at him plaintively. "That's not right, Arthur. I don't know if I can do that anymore."

"Please don't say that. I'm trying to fix things..."

Eames' eyebrows rose in surprise. Ariadne shot him a questioning look. "I've never seen him be this accommodating. He really likes you," he said in a stage whisper, ignoring Arthur's glare in his direction. "Don't make him beg. That's just sad."

He did look upset and pathetic. Given how expressionless he seemed before, that was a neat trick. Ariadne sighed. "I don't even know why I'm doing this..."

"Because you like me?" Arthur asked, hope in his tone.

She gave him a rueful smile. "More than I should, probably."

"So we'll go out again, and not think about any of this. It's my mess. I'll take care of it."

She wasn't sure what she should say in response to that, so she sighed. "Class lets out on Wednesday at eleven. I have a late shift at the clinic, so I'm free all afternoon." Arthur practically beamed at her, which made her insides melt. That explained everything. She was thinking with her hormones.

"Well, I'm off," Eames declared, rising to his feet. He nodded at Ariadne. "I am very pleased to have met you, you have no idea. You," he began, turning toward Arthur, "I will meet this evening to talk logistics." He waited until Arthur's nod of assent before leaving.

"He just stuck you with the check!" Ariadne cried.

Arthur chuckled. "Don't worry about it, Ariadne. He'll cover dinner."

It sounded like such an ordinary thing that Ariadne nodded. "It's nice to see that you at least have some friends. With everyone else being scared to death of you, that's got to be lonely."

"Yeah. It really is." Before Ariadne could react to that, he straightened. "So. Shall I walk you back to class?"

"You really don't have to..."

"I'd like to." His voice was soft, like a caress. "I like spending time with you. And we can decide what to do on Wednesday afternoon."

"Something close enough I can get to my shift on time," she advised him.

"You did mention bowling, right?" Arthur suggested as he signaled for the check. He signed the slip without really looking at it when the waiter arrived. "We can do that. I'll find out where there's a good place to go, and we'll go."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Ariadne shook her head. "Things always go that easy for you?"

He leaned forward, and something inside of his suit coat made a dull thunk sound against the table. "No, not everything." He was so serious again, and Ariadne wasn't sure what she should make of these mercurial moods. "Shall we go?"

"Yes, I suppose we should. Places like this aren't my style."

Arthur looked around as if seeing it for the first time. Ariadne supposed that he never took the time to take anything in. "I'm not sure it's anyone's style," he mused.

"Yours seems to be expensive, shiny or black," Ariadne teased.

He grinned at her as he led her back to school. "If I find something that works, I stick with it. I'm pretty determined that way."

"Considering how fast you glommed onto me..."

"Are you regretting that?" he asked quietly.

She gave him an appraising look, which seemed to make him nervous. For a moment, she thought she understood those quicksilver moods. He didn't know how to impress her, didn't know what she was looking for in a date. He was trying to blend into her expectations, but didn't know what they were. He didn't understand her, even though he wanted to. Ariadne felt a strange sense of power over him; this was a man that intimidated at least half of the city without trying, yet his defenses crumbled in front of her.

"No, not yet," she said, pulling him closer. She banged into whatever was in his jacket pocket again, and she deliberately didn't try to figure out what it was. There was no need to borrow trouble. "Most of the time, you're actually fun."

He grinned at her, flashing those dimples she couldn't get enough of. "Good to hear." He kissed her gently on the lips when they got to the architecture school, leaving her wanting more than a chaste kiss. "I'll see you Wednesday."

"Definitely. Don't keep me waiting."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied with a smile, backing up slowly. He waved, then started walking off toward the lake.

Ariadne smiled, then headed back into the building.

***  
***


	4. Suspicions

"This is not fair," Ariadne said with a sigh.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked, confused. He looked down at himself; he was dressed in jeans and a University of Illinois at Chicago sweatshirt, his hair a little floppy at the ends. "I figured this was good for bowling."

"Yes, it is," Ariadne assured him. "But you make the bowling shoes look good instead of stupid."

He took in her brown corduroys and form fitting sweater. "Trust me, Ariadne, you look good enough to eat."

The heat in his voice made her blush. "Oh, shut up and bowl."

Arthur hefted the bowling balls easily, and was coordinated enough to get the hang of the game once Ariadne walked him through it. She was a fairly mediocre bowler as well, so she was glad that he wasn't suddenly amazingly gifted everything. He laughed easily with her, making fun of himself when he rolled a gutter ball at one point. She liked being with him, trying to throw off his game by blowing him kisses from the bench or playfully leering at him when he bent over. He was just as distracting, and tended to let his hands brush across hers when they picked out bowling balls to use. Then again, whenever they traded places at the lane, he was right next to her, closer than was strictly necessary, as if he simply had to breathe her in. Normally that kind of thing made Ariadne nervous, but she liked it with Arthur. She grinned up at him, knowing she was encouraging him to keep invading her personal space, but she couldn't help it. She was having a great time. Their scores were fairly close, but Ariadne managed to win because of Arthur's gutter ball.

"I don't mind losing to you," he replied easily, sprawled on the chair next to hers as she tallied the scores.

"Yeah? Why not?"

"I lost 'cause I was in the gutter, right? Not a bad place to be if I'm with you."

Ariadne took a look at him and then burst out laughing. "Oh, god, that was an awful line." He pouted, which only made her laugh even harder. "What? It was!"

"It sounded much more smooth in my head," he admitted reluctantly.

Still laughing, Ariadne leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth. "You're a smooth talker the rest of the time, Arthur. Once in a while, it's okay to flub a line."

He wrapped his arms around her. "If you say so." He kissed her again, a grin on his face. "Do I have time to take you anywhere else before your shift?"

"Unfortunately, no," Ariadne replied, regret in her tone. "We can probably grab a slice of pizza or something really quick, though."

They got their shoes back from the rental counter and ordered pizza and soda at the alley's food court. Arthur cracked some terrible jokes to make Ariadne laugh, and he was close enough to rest his hand comfortably on her knee. He was pleased when she didn't push it away. "I'd like to see you again," he said as he walked her to the clinic door.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Ariadne asked in a playfully imperious tone.

Arthur chuckled. "Definitely asking."

"He can be taught!" she teased. "Yes, I'd love to." She grinned at him suddenly and ruffled his hair. Laughing at his protest, she said "Let's go play paint ball! I've always wanted to try that."

He grinned. "Definitely. I'll make arrangements. How's Saturday sound?"

"Great," she declared, then leaned up for a kiss. He gave her a searing one before she left to enter the clinic, a serene smile on her face.

Yusuf was leaning against the front desk, chatting with the other receptionist. "No show," he said by way of explanation as Ariadne came closer. "You're looking happy."

"Yeah. I think I am." She flashed him a happy grin and started taking off her coat.

"About time you started smiling when coming in to work," the other receptionist teased. "Especially if you're coming in fifteen minutes early."

Ariadne laughed and waved her off. "You can head out if you like. It's slow this time of night anyway, so I can handle it."

She didn't need to be told twice, and logged out of the system to let Ariadne take over. "Oh, you _must_ be getting some," Yusuf teased, grinning widely.

"I have been a good girl, I'll have you know," Ariadne declared in arch tones.

"Whoa. Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Sarah and I had sex on our second date."

"'Cause you're easy, Yusuf," Ariadne taunted.

He laughed and didn't disagree. "This dating thing is definitely good for you. See? I told you that you needed to get out more. Listen to doctor's orders."

Ariadne snorted. "When you're a doctor, I will."

Yusuf laughed and looked toward the clinic door as someone approached. "I know I shouldn't hang out here all the time, but honestly, it's dead boring back there. A rash of no shows today, and I think Gerstmann is getting the itch to teach me something."

Ariadne giggled. "Poor student actually being taught something."

"I know, right? I don't think I want to hear anything more about diabetic feet or retinopathy, thanks." The person entering the clinic was in suit and tie and looked much more official than their usual clientele. "Damn. Think it's a lawyer or a Fed or a detective of some kind?"

"You're just a student. You can't be sued yet."

"Ha, bloody ha," Yusuf intoned. "I should probably deal with Gerstmann anyway..."

"Coward."

"I have three unpaid parking tickets," Yusuf explained. "If he's not for me, I'll be right back."

Ariadne snickered and shook her head fondly as he left in a hurry. "How can I help you today?" He had soft brown hair and very blue eyes, with sharp cheekbones. He wasn't terribly familiar, but didn't mean very much given her irregular work hours.

"I'm hoping you can help me, actually." He flashed his badge. "I'm Detective Robert Fischer. I work with the organized crime division of the Chicago Police. I'm looking for Ariadne."

She blinked in surprise. "That's me."

He smiled at her. "Can I have a few minutes of your time, miss?"

"Um... I'm the only one here at the desk. If someone comes in..."

"Just a few minutes, I promise."

She shrugged helplessly and locked the computer screen. "There's a room off to the side you can probably use..."

"That would be very helpful." He waited until they were settled into an extra exam room that no one was using. It had been that slow an afternoon. "As I said, I work in the organized crime division of the Chicago Police," he began. "I've been looking into a particular organization when your name came up."

"My name?" Ariadne blinked at him, uncomprehending what he was saying. He had an attache case in hand; perhaps it was Arthur's earlier paranoia about his coworker, but Ariadne was suddenly very afraid of what was in that case.

"One of the people I've been tracking goes by the name Arthur. No last name, just Arthur. He apparently has most of Chicago terrified of him." She watched in stunned silence as Fischer removed a thick file folder and removed a few pictures. There was Arthur in his expensive Tom Ford suits, looking as impeccable and kissable as always. The next picture was of the two of them together after dancing and there was one after they left the movies. Fischer stared at Ariadne's baffled expression. "Ariadne, I believe that your boyfriend is a hired killer. He's very well placed in this organization, high enough that he has leeway to do whatever he wants."

Ariadne was shaking her head. "That's not possible."

"I'm very serious. How well do you know Arthur?"

"This is some kind of a sick joke," she said, shaking her head and looking at him with large eyes. She remembered his face when he spoke to Maurice at the restaurant, how terrified everyone was of him. She remembered how fast he moved when she had been attacked that first night they met, and the cut on his arm that had been "deadly sarcasm." The heavy metallic objects in his coat pockets could have been guns, could have been other kinds of tools he might use to kill people. But she also remembered the way he was with her, that vulnerable expression on his face when she threatened to stop dating him, or the way he smiled at her as if she was the only thing in the world that mattered. "He's not a killer. He's a spoiled little rich boy, not a killer."

Fischer pulled out other photos. "He's locked in a power struggle with another hired killer, Dominic Cobb," he said as he laid one down. "They both work for Saito, who has a cover as an international importer and exporter of goods. He's well connected in Chicago, so we can't prove anything about his underhanded dealings. Both Arthur and Dominic managed to escape all of the nets that the police have put out. Witnesses have a way of disappearing."

Ariadne looked up at his face and somehow knew that Fischer wasn't joking with her. "Why are you telling me this? This isn't Arthur. This isn't him."

"I'm asking you to help me," he said quietly, gathering the pictures. "You're being followed and monitored by several different people. If I asked you to come to the station to have this conversation, we might not get another one. But you work in a walk in clinic, so I could be a patient receiving care." Ariadne was pale as she stared at him. "He's bad news, Ariadne. Even if you don't know anything, and you might not, you still need to be careful. He knows dangerous people. He _is_ dangerous."

"No, I don't believe that." She stood up as she shook her head.

"What does he do for a living?" Fischer asked abruptly, standing up as well and sliding the folder into his attache case.

"He's a problem solver for a big business company," Ariadne responded.

"So you don't know what he actually does," Fischer pressed.

"Can I see your badge again?" she demanded, holding her hand out. "This sounds like harassment."

Fischer pulled out his badge and let her look at it as long as she liked, but didn't change his expression. "He might have given you a good cover story, but that's all it is, a story. He's trouble, and I hate to see innocents caught up in this kind of thing."

Ariadne watched him leave the clinic with large, round eyes. She couldn't think of a good comeback, couldn't think of a good explanation. She was still standing there a few minutes later when Yusuf found her. "Ariadne? What was that all about?"

"He thinks Arthur's in organized crime," she said dully.

"Like the mafia?"

"Like a hitman," Ariadne said, the words sinking in. She turned to look at Yusuf. "It wasn't your traffic tickets at all."

"Well, good. I can't afford them yet, anyway. What are you going to do?"

"I don't believe him," she said firmly. It wasn't entirely true, there were doubts now. She hated that they were there, but Arthur was vague on a great many things about himself. He knew everything in the world about her, but she knew very little about him. She hadn't seen his apartment, didn't know the name of his company or what a problem solver did. She knew Eames and Thomasina, but his other friends were a mystery to her. They had been in a nice little bubble of newly dating bliss, and Fischer had effectively popped it.

"Maybe he just looks alike," Yusuf offered helpfully. "Maybe it's all a mistake."

No, Arthur looked too damn good in those tailored suits. And Ariadne was starting to realize that they hid a lot more than a gut that Arthur didn't have.

"Yeah," Ariadne said, shaking her head and smiling brightly at Yusuf. "Besides, Arthur said one of his coworkers wanted his job. Maybe he means to scare me off."

"You know, for that to work you have to mean a lot to Arthur."

"He's kinda already said I do."

Yusuf grinned widely at her. "Well, that explains everything."

Only it didn't. It didn't explain everything at all.

***

"You're awfully quiet today. Was it a rough shift last night?" Arthur asked in concern, looking at Ariadne. He shut off the car and reached out for her hand. "Are you okay? Do you want to cancel today and just stay home?"

"Your home?"

"Well, it's kind of a mess," he said awkwardly. He gave her a little half smile. "I'll clean up if you want to go, though."

That sounded perfectly ordinary, and Ariadne shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I think it was just the drive. It made me kinda sleepy."

"Ah, is that the secret to keeping you quiet, then?" he teased playfully. Ariadne smiled and smacked his arm playfully. "Hey! That's domestic abuse!"

"Only if I leave bruises," she teased in return, grinning at him. No, Fischer was wrong. This was not what a hired killer looked like. Arthur was not a hitman. He didn't go around killing people for money or business. He was just a spoiled brat of a businessman, used to having his way because he made too much money. He scared people because of the financial influence. Being a student and working in a clinic that served low income families, she knew exactly how big a club finances could be.

They checked in at the front gate. Ariadne wasn't terribly surprised to find out that Arthur had reserved the entire paint ball park for them to use. It was just an Arthur thing to do, to have her all to himself. "I figured we'd just shoot each other."

"Not terribly romantic," Ariadne said archly.

"Hey, you're the one that suggested it," he replied with a laugh.

She had wanted to muss his hair and see him dressed down. She hadn't been thinking of the camouflage gear and helmets that they would have to wear. The paint ball pellets would sting and hurt if they hit bare skin. So much for seeing him in jeans, then.

It was more fun than she thought it was going to be. She had never really handled a gun before, and the park attendant showed them how to use the paintball gun and aim it. They took off at a run in opposite directions, then started to work their way toward each other at the center of the park. She managed to get a few shots in, spattering Arthur's arm and leg with paint. It was the chest shot that made her whoop and jump up and down, exposing her hiding place. Ducking quickly, she managed to avoid getting hit with paint.

There was a sharper sounding crack overhead a minute later. It didn't sound like Arthur's paint ball gun at all.

She froze, clutching her paint ball gun tightly. "Ariadne!" Arthur called. "Stay down!" There was rustling nearby, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the underbrush shift and move beside her. Ariadne saw Arthur crawling on his stomach toward her, and she scrabbled toward him. He had the faceplate of the helmet off, and his eyes were large with concern. Shit, this was real. This wasn't him just trying to scare her because she had shot him in the chest.

"Okay. That wasn't you?" she whispered. Arthur shook his head as more shots rang out. "What the hell is going on?"

"I think that's a sniper rifle," Arthur said softly, looking up and around them. "There are too many trees up there and a lot of brush. The sniper could be anywhere."

"What?" she cried, forgetting to remain silent. Fischer's warning burned in the back of her mind. She didn't know anything about guns, so something going off nearby merely told her "gun." It didn't tell her "sniper rifle" automatically.

Was he really a killer for hire?

"We can't see who it is, but he can see us. It's got to be a sniper." He looked at her unhappily and reached for her. He caught her hand in his and squeezed tightly. "Ariadne, we'll get out of this, I promise."

"Against a freaking sniper rifle?!"

"If you stay low, you should be okay. We're in camo. It'll be harder to see us that way." He dug around in his pocket. "If we're lucky, it's not the PSG-1. But if it's who I think it is, he wouldn't spend the cash on that one, even if it's the most accurate." Arthur pressed his car keys into Ariadne's hand and closed her fingers around them. "I'm going to set up a distraction and lead the shooter away from you. You know the way back to the car?" She nodded, eyes large and nearly falling out of her head. "Okay. Start making your way there, and get in the car. It'll protect you."

"There's a sniper out there, Arthur. In a car I'm a sitting duck!"

"It's bulletproof," he said quietly, shaking his head. "You'll be safer there."

"Oh my God," Ariadne whispered, staring at him in shock.

"Please," Arthur said desperately, eyes imploring her to listen. "I will explain everything, I promise. I've wanted to for a while now. It just keeps getting so damn complicated, and nothing is going to come out right. This doesn't help matters, but right now I need to make sure you're alive. Please, Ariadne. Just get in the car and stay there. I'll get to the car afterward."

"And the shooter?"

"Hopefully won't see either of us."

She nodded, not knowing what else to do. She started wriggling her way toward the car, mindful not to disturb the brush too much. After a few tense minutes, she heard Arthur's paint ball gun go off behind her. She jumped at the sound of repeating rifle fire behind her, but used the sound to cover the sound of her moving through the underbrush. She could hear Arthur crashing through the bushes somewhere behind her, circling around, and there was more rifle fire. With a choked sob, Ariadne moved faster until she broke through the underbrush into the clearing. She ran across the field as fast as she could to the main building. The attendant that had rented them equipment was sitting at his booth, a neat little circle of blood in the center of his forehead. His eyes stared at her, glazed over in death, shock still etched on his face. Hands trembling, Ariadne nearly dropped the car keys when she tried to unlock the door, but she managed to get inside and lock the door after herself.

It was tempting to simply start the car and drive off. If it was really bulletproof, she would be fine. But Arthur would be in the middle of the park with a _sniper_ after him, and he had just served himself up on a platter to try to save her life.

The keys fell from her hand onto the floor of the passenger seat. She was shaking, remembering the glassy eyes of the attendant. Someone had just walked up and shot him, then decided to start shooting at them in the park. Someone wanted them dead, and there was no way to handwave this as a simple competition for a job.

Remembering what Fischer had said, Ariadne started rifling through the car. There were CD's and notes, driving directions to places and a day planner with initials and times written in Arthur's neat script. There was no way to identify who or what the initials referred to, though she could recognize her own and the times they had gone on dates. In the glove compartment, there was the usual first aid kit, registration and car insurance paperwork and the owner's manual. Just when she thought she was being paranoid for no good reason, she saw something matte black at the bottom of the compartment. She pulled it out and nearly dropped it once she realized what it was.

A clip of bullets for a gun.

Hyperventilating, Ariadne put it back where she found it. There had to be a reasonable explanation for this. He was a gun enthusiast. It was him exercising his right to bear arms. Lord knew she liked it when he bared his arms.

Shit, she was losing her mind.

Ariadne remembered movies and books always hiding guns underneath the car seats. There was nothing under hers, but if Arthur needed guns in a hurry, they wouldn't be under the passenger seat. Her breath stopped when her hand closed over a leather holster strapped to the undercarriage of the driver's seat. She was making little soft noises of disbelief, but couldn't deny the gun in her lap. It was heavy, matte black and had Glock 17 and 9 x19 clearly written along its side. She traced the ridges of the slide and the pistol's grip, wanting to cry. Fischer was right, wasn't he? Because this was the exact same size and shape of the object that had bumped into her on several occasions beneath his suits, and a test thump against the dashboard sounded similar to the thunk against tables. She tried to pull at the slide the way she saw in movies, but she wasn't sure what she was doing. She'd never shot a gun before, and all she knew was from the movies. They always made it look easy, but the gun was an unfamiliar weight in her hand.

She could hear a muffled cry in the distance. Startled, she shoved the gun into her coat pocket and tried to calm her racing heart. Arthur was hiding a gun in his car. She couldn't imagine a gun enthusiast doing that. Gun enthusiasts kept their guns locked in safes in their houses, right? They didn't strap them to the undersides of their driver's seats with extra ammunition in the glove box. They didn't hide guns beneath their suits. Who knew what other things he had hidden in his clothes. Ariadne didn't think she could look at a multitool the same way now.

Arthur appeared a few minutes later by the driver's side. When he couldn't open the door, he knocked on the window. With trembling hands, she unlocked the doors and handed over the keys. "Are you all right?" he asked, concern in his voice. The gloves were gone, and his hands were raw and red looking, cuts in the webbing of his thumb. She didn't want to think of how those got there, so she simply nodded. "Jesus, you're in shock."

"Take me home, Arthur," Ariadne whispered, feeling the weight of his gun in her pocket. She didn't even know how to use it. She assumed that the safety was on, but what did she know?

"I don't think that's a good idea right now," he said, voice tight. "I don't think it's safe there. They know where you live. I'll need to bring you somewhere safe."

"I want to go home, Arthur," Ariadne said, her voice on the edge of hysteria. "I want to go home _now!"_

He caught her hands in his. Her hands carried old cuts from knives when she made models and wasn't entirely paying attention. She didn't want to know why he had his. "Ariadne. Please look at me. Please." Her eyes turned to meet his, taking in the concern and pain that was there. "Please believe me," he said softly. "I would never hurt you. I will never allow you to get hurt, Ariadne. I love you."

She was shaking, even though it wasn't cold in the car. The camouflage was actually pretty warm. "I... I..."

Arthur kissed her softly, lips gliding over hers. His hands still held hers. "I love you, Ariadne. I'm sorry this happened, I really am. I never wanted it to be this way."

"Then what did you want?" she asked, fighting a shiver rolling down her spine.

His smile was heartbreakingly endearing. "To never have you in danger. To be able to explain this slowly, to make sure that no one ever tried to take a shot at you. You're too important to me." He let go of her hands to stroke her face gently. "I don't have an easy job, as much as it's easy for me to do." He ran his thumb over her lower lip. "It's all I know, but I'd leave it in a heartbeat if that's what it took to keep you safe. Please believe me."

"You kill people, don't you?" she asked, amazed by how steady her voice was.

"Sometimes I do," he confirmed softly.

"And that sniper?"

"Wounded and heading back to the man that hired him."

"The one that's in competition with you?"

"Yeah. This was a message. He wants me out of the game. He wants the position I have in the organization."

Ariadne couldn't suppress the shiver that rolled down her spine. She didn't want to see Arthur with the same glazed eyes as the park attendant. "So now what?"

Arthur let out a pained sigh. "I'm going to have to make this official. I need to get Saito's backing on this."

She remembered the name from Fischer's discussion with her. "What does that mean?" Ariadne asked, glad that she at least sounded calm.

"Whatever else you might feel, or not feel, I will never pressure you into anything. Please understand that. I need to make sure everyone's aware that you're off limits. If you hate me after this and never want to see me again, at least you'll be safe." He turned hollow eyes toward her, hands on the wheel in a white knuckled grip. "I can deal with everything else if I can be sure of that much."

Ariadne remained silent, and merely watched as he started up the car and dialed a number from memory. "Eames, there was a hit at the park. Nash killed the attendant in the booth. I need you to get here and start damage control." He paused as he listened to Eames, and it slowly sank in for Ariadne that Eames was in the same business. Of course he was. He dealt with "security" in the same organization. Why wouldn't he know how to eliminate bodies? "I'm calling Miles next to set up a meeting with Saito. This needs to be taken care of _now,"_ he said, a fierce undercurrent in his voice. She looked at his profile and saw the intensity in his expression, the same thing that had terrified Maurice.

Once he was done talking with Miles, Ariadne cleared her throat to get his attention. She wasn't sure how comfortable she felt touching him at that moment. "Are you all right?" she asked, voice hoarse.

"I should be asking you that," he said with a bitter bark of laughter. "This isn't how I'd imagined I'd tell you. I figured a nice dinner, talking about stuff, then work."

"Sorry it didn't work out that way," Ariadne mumbled.

Arthur pulled over and stopped the car. "Ariadne..." he began, reaching for her.

"You say you're good at it," she said, voice taut with tension. "How do you even find out that kind of thing? You don't learn how to kill people at school."

"Actually, I did."

Ariadne merely stared at him, not sure if he was pulling her leg or not. "What?"

"I didn't always live in Chicago," he said quietly. "I had a Mom strung out every night and a Dad more concerned with where he could buy more booze. Hell, half the time I didn't even know if he was my real Dad. I got my ass sent to juvie a few times, and a couple of residential homes. They had a school there, and I kept running away. They kept finding me and bringing me back. There was this guy there, thought he was tough shit. He liked to make his mark on all the new guys, and no one did a damn thing about it."

"So you did," Ariadne guessed.

"So I did. No one could prove a thing, and no one cared to. Somehow it went on from there, until I got noticed and brought over here."

"How old were you?" she asked in a soft voice.

"When I got to Chicago?"

"When you killed that boy."

"Twelve," Arthur said quietly. His voice was flat and matter of fact. There was no emotional context in his voice, no regret in his eyes. "He was sixteen. I made it look like a suicide."

Ariadne thought she was going to be sick. When she was twelve she was worrying about how her bangs made her look or if her best friend was going to tell her crush in the other sixth grade class that she liked him. She didn't have to worry about hiding a kill as a suicide.

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Things are better for me here, Ariadne. It's not like that now. Saito runs a straight organization, not like some of the others I'd been part of. That probably doesn't mean much, but he is honorable. He'd make sure they honor any orders to keep you safe."

"Why would he care about me?"

"Because I do. Because I'm the best hired gun he's got, and he knows it." There was a quiet pride in his voice. "He'll honor my request."

"What if he doesn't?"

Arthur's eyes had that empty, soulless look again. "I'll make sure he does. You won't die because of me, Ariadne. I won't allow it."

There was nothing she could say in response to that.

***  
***


	5. Finding Answers

The building on the outside didn't look like much. It was straight industrial gray stone, no flair or individuality that Ariadne could see. It could be a warehouse for what it lacked in personality on the outside. On the inside, however, it was richly decorated in lacquered art, deep and vibrant jewel tones and abstract art on display on mahogany tables. Ariadne could see a distinct Japanese influence to the decoration, and this was exactly the sort of place where Arthur in a Tom Ford suit would look at home in. She knew that her usual attire of jeans, shirts and scarves would never fit in here.

An older man with white hair and kindly eyes greeted them at one of the inner doors. "Arthur. I'm so sorry this happened..."

"You knew Dom couldn't be trusted, Miles," Arthur snapped, eyes flashing with anger. Miles didn't cower in fear as Ariadne expected, and his expression didn't change. "Mal will never keep him stable, and you know that."

Miles looked irritated by that comment. "Mal is capable in her own right. Dom is a grown man, and he can make his own decisions. For good or ill, and he can reap his consequences."

"On that point, we're agreed. Mal is lovely, but she _can't_ make him do what she wants. He won't listen to her."

Opening the door for Arthur, Miles nodded and sighed. "I do know that. If only there weren't children involved..."

Arthur nodded and guided Ariadne inside. "Children?" she asked in a hushed tone.

"Dom married Miles' daughter Mal. They have two kids. You think he wouldn't be grandstanding like this and just be a fucking father to his kids," Arthur said, anger in his tone. His entire body had gone rigid, and Ariadne was surprised by it. Knowing what she did about his past, however, it really shouldn't have been surprising at all.

Ariadne stopped short and grasped Arthur's arm tightly. "Please. Whatever happens, please don't do anything stupid. Please don't get yourself killed over me."

"So you do care," he said softly, a gentle smile on his face.

She couldn't quite meet his eyes, but there was a low flush on her cheeks. "Maybe."

His smile widened a fraction. "Don't worry, Ariadne. I'll make sure we both live through this. I owe you."

"Yes, you do," she replied tartly, as if someone wasn't trying to kill them that very afternoon. It felt familiar, and she could feel him relax a bit under her touch.

If they had been here under different circumstances, Ariadne would have taken time to admire the elegant Japanese screens, stairwells and walkways surrounding open courtyards built into the building. As it was, they were hurrying up a flight of stairs and down a hallway to a grand meeting room. There was a long table down the center of it, with tapestries and screens along the wall. There was a Japanese man exuding confidence in an elegant black suit over a white vest seated at the head of the table. A few people were assembled in the room, and Ariadne recognized one of the faces as Dominic Cobb from Fischer's photographs. She also recognized Maurice from the restaurant, and he was glaring balefully at Arthur.

Arthur gave the Japanese man a deep head nod. "Saito-sama," he said respectfully. "Thank you for agreeing to see me so quickly."

The Japanese man gestured for Arthur to sit at the table across from Cobb and Maurice. Ariadne noticed men in black suits at the back of the room, their hands loosely clasped in front of them. At this point, she had no illusions about them being there for show. She would guess that there were guns beneath the suits in shoulder holsters, and if Saito gave the signal, they would start shooting. Gulping slightly, she sat beside Arthur when he pulled out a chair for her. This was his show, and she was simply along for the ride.

"I am quite interested in hearing what you have to say, Arthur," he said, an amused lilt to his lips. "I have been in discussion with Mr. Cobb and Mr. Fischer here."

Ariadne stared at the two men in surprise. Fischer. She wondered if Maurice was related to Detective Fischer; Eames _had_ said that his son had gone into law enforcement. She could understand his bitterness better, as well as Fischer's need to work after hours to get this taken care of. He knew exactly what he was up against.

"I would like to formally petition for protection for Ariadne," Arthur said in even tones. His face was an impassive mask, his eyes cool. He could have asked for a loan or a new gun for all the emotional content there was in his voice. She knew better, but it still hurt to hear. How could he turn his emotions off like that?

"From what I understand, you have already made arrangements," Saito replied.

"Unofficial, and after Cobb decided that it might be a good idea to follow her and send threatening statements."

"You have no business going outside of the organization," Cobb said firmly, glaring at Arthur. "This is in your best interest."

"This is not your concern," Arthur replied stiffly. "If you have a problem with me, you discuss it with me. You don't send Nash in to do your dirty work."

Cobb's eyes narrowed at Arthur. "Where is he? What did you do with him?"

Ariadne watched everyone at the table. Saito was letting this play out for the moment, and she had to remember that these were his two best hit men. It was going to be survival of the fittest, and Cobb was willing to kill her.

Arthur's smile was chilling to see. "He'll come crawling out of the woodwork at some point. Maybe you should talk to Cobol, see if he's seen Nash. You should be very careful who you hire, Cobb. You're getting sloppy."

"I'm in control," he said, teeth grit in anger at the accusation.

"Oh? Then I'd hate to see you out of control."

Cobb bristled at the quiet taunt, and turned his angry expression toward Saito. "He's breaking your rules."

"Explain," Saito said, his voice giving no indication what he was thinking.

"You made it very clear that there was to be no outside interference. We guard your secrets, we maintain security. We keep things running smoothly. We get the job done. Arthur has stopped working, he's setting up security details behind your back and he isn't enforcing anything anymore." Cobb pushed back and away from the table as the main doors opened. A woman in an elegant black dress and curled hair strode into the room. Her heels clicked on the marble floor, and she gave Cobb a fond smile. Ariadne supposed that it was Mal. Miles was behind her, and he quietly closed the doors. She stood beside Cobb, and he turned to Saito with a confident smile. "We're all you need, and you know I'm the best."

Arthur remained silent, his hands folded neatly on the table. He glanced from Cobb to Saito, his face calm.

"I will think about your request," Saito said, looking at Arthur. He nodded his thanks, and Ariadne kept her hands in her lap. They were tight enough that she had trouble feeling her fingertips. She felt so small and insignificant next to all of these glamorous looking people. She was an architecture student, for crying out loud. She didn't fit in with these people at all.

Cobb was shaking his head, and Mal was standing behind him with her eyes on Saito. "We need an answer," he was saying. "You need me. Help me to help you. I need that much."

Ariadne didn't miss the change in Saito's expression. It had gone from peaceful and difficult to read to downright flinty. She didn't think he liked being told what to do. "Gentlemen," he said, voice quiet but still carrying power behind it. "I have other things to attend to. By all means, stay and discuss this matter." His gaze was on Cobb, not Arthur. Ariadne didn't know what that meant. "Mr. Fischer, we were interrupted. Let us discuss business arrangements."

Maurice Fischer rose and left the room along with Saito and Miles. Ariadne looked at Cobb's tight expression and suddenly wished she knew if the guards in the room would act without explicit orders from Saito. He brushed back the edges of his suit coat to place his hands on his hips, and Ariadne could clearly see the shoulder holster and gun. It looked different from Arthur's gun in her pocket, and Mal's smile seemed almost predatory as she looked at Ariadne. "Poor little girl, caught out of her element. She can't even save herself."

If they were talking about an ordinary panhandler or mugger, Ariadne would leap to her own defense. Instead she stayed silent, merely looking at Mal. She could feel Arthur's solid presence beside her, but somehow knew that any help from him would be perceived as weakness. With Saito gone, they could both easily be gunned down and left for dead. As angry as she could be with Arthur's heavy handedness, she liked him. Maybe it was more than that, she didn't know. She knew she definitely didn't like the light in Cobb's or Mal's faces, that they enjoyed the idea of the kill. They were good at their jobs, and they _liked it._ Arthur was straightforward about it and didn't seem to take any particular pleasure out of it. He was good, he was efficient and it was just a job. It wasn't personal.

Mal left Cobb's side, a satisfied smile on her face. "Poor, poor little girl. Do you know what it is to be a lover, a half of a whole? Or is Arthur too cold for you?" Her smile had almost sinister overtones. "Look at him, sitting there. He makes no move to defend you. He asks for protection for you, but doesn't lift a hand to help you. Is this the kind of lover you thought you had?" She laughed, and there was a gun in her hand. Ariadne hadn't seen where it had come from. It was small and matte black; for all Ariadne knew, she had been carrying it against her dress the entire time. It was pointed at Arthur. "Would you try to save him, little girl? Would you save him from pain?"

Cobb laid a hand on Mal's arm and lowered the gun slowly. "Not this way, Mal. He'd look like a martyr." He took his gun from his holster, eyes tracking Arthur and Ariadne. It wasn't a friendly look in the slightest. Ariadne watched him undo the safety of his gun, and she could feel a chill wash over her. She slipped a hand in her pocket and tried to mimic the movement on Arthur's Glock without seeing what she was doing. All she could do was pray that she wouldn't have to use it. "Aren't you going to do anything?" Cobb taunted. "Or do you really think Saito is going to come through and save you?"

"He didn't buy it," Arthur told him in clipped tones, hands still clasped on the table. He would never get to a gun on time, if he was wearing one, but removing his hands from the table would probably make Cobb nervous.

"What are you talking about?"

Arthur slowly moved his hands so that they were pressed flat against the glossy table, then moved to a standing position in a graceful motion. Ariadne moved quickly to a standing position as well, her hands in her pockets. She had her right hand around the gun, her finger over the trigger guard. She didn't want to shoot herself by accident, but Mal was scaring her. She didn't feel safe at all.

"Saito-sama didn't believe what you said. About me not having my head in the game. You should have taken a different tack if you really wanted to discredit me."

Cobb pointed his gun at Arthur's chest. He removed a suppressor from his jacket pocket and screwed it onto the end of his gun. "I don't need to discredit you. I just needed you here and unarmed. The rest will take care of itself."

"Don't!" Ariadne cried, eyes wide and frightened of the gun in Cobb's hand.

The gun swiveled to point at her. Cobb smiled at her, as if he knew a secret she didn't. "He can't save you," Cobb told her evenly. "He can't save himself, and he can't save you."

Ariadne felt a calm settle over her. She was going to die. Arthur was going to die. It would happen no matter what she said, and there was nothing either of them could do about it. The guards in the back were simply watching, taking the same hands-off approach that Saito had. He didn't have to get his hands dirty. Everyone would take care of the mess for him.

She removed her hands from her pockets, Arthur's Glock in her hand. It was heavy and big for her, but Cobb wasn't watching her hands. He was gloating, grinning at her. "I win. I get what I want, and it's just the way it's got to be. Nothing personal, but the job's got to be done."

Ariadne held the gun up in both of her hands, pointing at Cobb's chest. She didn't know what the hell she was doing, but he was fairly close. At this range, she couldn't possibly miss. "Put your gun down."

"You wouldn't dare." Cobb's tone was derisive.

"You don't belong here," Mal said as the doors opened. Neither Cobb noticed it, though Arthur and Ariadne both did. "This isn't your world."

"No, it's not," Ariadne said, voice calm and steady. "But I'm not going to sit there and let you point a gun at me just because you feel like it."

Cobb simply stared at her for a moment. "No, I don't suppose you would. It doesn't matter." There was confidence in his stance, and he started squeezing the trigger. "You're nobody important. It'll be easy enough to dispose of the both of you."

Arthur flipped the table up and dropped to his feet, pulling Ariadne with him. Startled by the swift movement, she squeezed the trigger of the Glock. It went off in her hands as she tumbled to the floor, her hair flying. Cobb's gun went off as well, and she heard Mal screaming. She fetched up against Arthur, who cradled her to his chest. "Are you all right?" he said, running his hands over her face. Shaking, she could only stare at him. "Are you hurt?"

Mal was running around the table, gun in hand despite the shouts at the door. The guards that had been at the back of the room finally moved, grabbing hold of her by the arms. She was pinned between them, and there was a groaning sound from the other side of the table. Slowly, Arthur and Ariadne stood and peered over the edge of the table. Cobb was lying on the floor, his suppressed gun fallen beside him. He was bleeding from a gut wound, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. "Mal? Where are you?"

"Oh my God," Ariadne moaned in disbelief. "Oh my God."

Arthur pulled her against him and turned her face so she wouldn't have to see him. Mal pulled away from the guards holding her, though her gun fell from her hand. She ran back to Cobb, tears in her eyes. Kneeling beside him, she pulled him into her lap. "We were supposed to grow old together," she sobbed. "We're supposed to build an entire world together. This will be ours. You can't die. You're not supposed to die."

Cobb grasped her hand in his and drew in shaky breaths. "I love you, Mal."

"Don't do this. You can't do this. You can't die. You're not supposed to die..."

The doors had been opened by Miles and Saito. Miles stared at the tableau, his face ashen. Saito looked as though nothing surprised him, and he had expected this to be the outcome when he left them all alone together.

Ariadne sobbed against Arthur's chest, his arms around her and comforting. "Oh my God," she kept repeating. "I killed someone."

"He's not dead yet," Arthur told her soothingly. "If he gets to a hospital in time, they can repair the damage."

"I will kill you," Mal said hatefully from the floor, cradling Cobb. His chest was barely moving, but he wasn't dead yet.

"Refrain from threats, Mallorie," Saito said calmly. He gestured for his guards to right the table and place it back in its central position. "Miles, take care of your family. No hospitals. You know what we discussed."

Mal wailed and had to be escorted out by Miles and one of the silent guards in the black suits. Cobb was dragged out by another silent guard. That left Saito alone with Arthur and Ariadne, and she looked at Saito with a terrified expression.

"Please give Arthur his gun back, Miss Ariadne," Saito said as he sat down in the chair he had recently vacated.

She did so hastily, and watched as he replaced the safety and stuck it in the back of his pants. He wasn't wearing a holster beneath his jacket, and he had the same multitool on his belt that he had before. It also looked like he had some kind of pants holster and a smaller gun tucked inside his waistband. From her current angle, she could also see a thin wire tucked inside the collar of his shirt and what looked like a small blade tucked inside his belt. Dear God, how many other weapons did he have?

"Please, be seated," Saito continued, as if this was an everyday occurrence. For all Ariadne knew, it was.

"Mr. Cobb had very specific talents," he began once they were seated. Ariadne didn't like how he was already using the past tense. "He always tried to do more, always tried to improve. I do like this in my employees." He smiled thinly at them. "Of course, he often overstepped his bounds, but never so disastrously. Mal was there, I am sure. She helped him with the tasks he was unable to complete, and he did make contact with Cobol and Nash frequently. But, he got the job done." He folded his hands in front of him, staring at Arthur and Ariadne. "Arthur, you have always been very dependable. Your information is correct, your kills are clean and I do not have to send anyone to check on you. You excel and are very thorough, and you have always maintained your professionalism."

"Thank you, sir," Arthur said quietly when Saito paused and seemed to expect a response.

"You also have never asked for anything of my organization. If you had requests outside the scope of my business, you took care of it on your own while maintaining my interests. I do appreciate this." Arthur gave him a stiff, formal nod. "You also do not presume to overstep your bounds." Arthur remained silent, and Ariadne wondered if he knew where the conversation was leading, or if he was just as confused as she was. "I approve your request for protection." He turned his eyes onto Ariadne. "I will see to it that no one in the organization touches her. You can tell your friends that there is no need to keep her home under surveillance. She will be quite an asset in the long run, after all."

"What do you mean, asset?" Ariadne said abruptly, feeling an indignant rush of adrenaline course through her.

"You are a gifted architect, from what your teachers tell me." He smiled at their shock. "I notice all things in my organization. And one of my associates will have need of employees in his design firm in another year. I find it... neater, that way." His smile was wider but it didn't contain much warmth. "Welcome to the family, Miss Ariadne. I'm quite sure we will do wonderful business together."

Dismissed, Arthur and Ariadne were escorted from the room by more black suited guards. "What does this mean?" Ariadne asked, feeling the adrenaline rush begin to falter.

"It means we're both still alive." After a moment's hesitation, he grasped her hand. "It means you're safe."

"You still work for him, then?"

"Yes." He didn't feel the need to point out that she would work for Saito eventually, too. When he took notice of someone, they tended to do that after a while.

Ariadne looked up at Arthur with a plaintive expression. "And us?"

"Hopefully, nothing's changed."

She looked at him with a troubled gaze, trying to sort through the tangled muddle of feelings she had for him. "Quick, give me a kiss."

He didn't even question it. He bent down to meet her upturned face and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips, though by his kiss Ariadne could tell that he would have wanted to devour her whole. He pulled back and looked at her with a raised eyebrow, silently asking her what she had wanted.

"It was worth a shot," Ariadne sighed.

"Oh?"

"That still feels good," she said softly. "It would be easy to dump you if it didn't."

His face was impassive, but she could see the fear in his eyes. "Do you want to dump me?"

"No," she said softly. "I don't."

Arthur broke out into one of his wide smiles, dimples showing. "Then we'll figure this out. I promise you, it'll work out."

Ariadne nodded and they started walking out of the building. "Well, one thing's for sure. You won't get squeamish if any of my med school friends talk to you about work."

His relieved laughter made her feel a little better. Arthur's hand was comfortable in hers, and she didn't even notice the way he invaded her space or tried to drape himself all over her. She _liked_ him and she liked being with him. Ariadne turned to look at him and saw the unwavering trust he had in her. There was love there, and it wasn't just on his side of the relationship. Seeing Cobb aim the gun at him had crystallized it for her. For good or ill, she had to stick with Arthur. She couldn't stand the thought of him alone or hurt, couldn't stand the thought that someone might try to kill him.

Ariadne tightened her hand around his as they left the building. She had no idea what she was doing, but at least now she had time to figure it out.

 

The End


End file.
